


A Little Familiar

by Tea1810



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bonded Pair, Competent Jaskier, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Established Relationship, Familiars, Feral bard, Friends to Lovers, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, The best bois, Witchers need friends, Witchers need love too, cant do feelings Rivia but he tries, geralt is a horse boi, i suck at summaries, just want everyone to be happy, no beta we die like Jaskier on the mountain, some saucy scenes wink wink, wrote this instead of sleeping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24650572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea1810/pseuds/Tea1810
Summary: What if when Witchers were made they had a companion, someone to tend to their wounds, someone to love them and not judge them for something they can’t control? When Witchers were first made they were given an equal someone to travel and face all their trials with, these beings are familiars.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 60
Kudos: 248





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What’s in italics is them talking through mind reading. Hope you enjoy reading. X

* * *

Geralt sat in the classroom, avoiding the others it was easier that way. Ever since the extra trials, the ones that made his hair white, that had made him stronger, made him quieter. Vesemir said that they were jealous of him, but he struggled to see why, he was still feeling rough from his trials. And he had finished them over a month ago. There weren’t many boys left in the class after the trial of grasses.   
  
Vesemir came into the room, with Azrael, a huge brown hawk sitting on his shoulder. He had never been seen on the training grounds without the majestic hawk close by. Every Witcher had a familiar and once you reached a certain point in your training, you received your familiar. “Let’s begin!” he growled 

  
Everyone grew quiet in the seats, no one dared to interrupt their teacher. Azrael sat now on her perch, her large silver eyes on everyone.   
“Today we are going to be talking about familiars, you will have noticed every Witcher has one.” He said, “This is last step in completing your training, before you go off into the continent.” 

  
He whistled and Azrael flew down, landing on the ground black smoke billowed out and instead of a hawk a woman in her place. Geralt could appreciate her beauty, her hair held the same iridescent sheen of her feathers, her eyes still big and silver that contrasted with her tanned skin. Even her dress looked like feathers. 

  
The Witcher pulled out his chair, a smile graced her lips as she sat down. “Your familiar is your second hand, someone to rely on and for most they end up wedded.” He said smiling down at her

  
“But its different for every Witcher and familiar it’s whatever is most comfortable for you both, for some all they need is a friend, or a mother figure or a daughter figure.” Azrael said her voice like honey

  
“Azrael is my most trusted companion, my wife. But know this before you get a familiar, you will never bear children. Even with familiars you are still infertile!” he grumbled 

  
The trials that Geralt and every Witcher before him went through may give them enhanced speed and strength and limited magics but it came at a cost, never could they produce a child. And Geralt didn’t see the problem with that, why would he subject a child to this? “But you will never be alone!” Azrael pointed out 

  
Lambert’s hand shot into the air, “Yes boy?”

  
“What exactly is a familiar?” he asked 

  
“A familiar is a demon, a spirit from another plain of existence. But they act as a protector, a well of information on all sorts of creatures and places. Another sword for some, or simply just as a companion. All familiars have some healing abilities and so much more.” He said 

  
“We complete you,” Azrael said smiling, “The other world is where familiars are formed, we can only leave the other world for short spells until we are bonded. We come from an old magic and it is said every familiar was made for every potential Witcher out there.” 

  
Geralt raised his hand, so many things running through his head. “Yes?” Vesemir said 

  
“How do we choose a familiar? Is there some sort of test? How can we see them if they are in the other world?” he asked 

  
Vesemir smiled, “Very good questions,” 

  
“You go to the other world, you get given a potion that allows you to be there, once there the familiar can feel your soul. And one shall come to you, it will follow your soul cause it matches theirs.” He explained 

  
“Are all familiars female?” Frank asked his hand in the air

  
“You actually have to wait to ask the question Frank until I address you!” Vesemir laughed 

  
“Not every familiar is a female, but more often then not a Witcher will pair with a female familiar!” Azrael explained 

  
Józef raised his hand and waited for Vesemir to give him permission to speak, “You said familiars are demons?”

  
“Familiars come from old magic and are in essence demonic spirits. That doesn’t make us bad. Demon is an umbrella term really.” She said 

  
“Anyway, you will bond to your familiar in the other world and their true form will anchor itself to your soul. This is a delicate union, even if you only treat your familiar as a friend. If you were to severe that bond the familiar is forced back into their incorporeal state and back into their world. Unless of course you die, if you die the familiar will die too, so I implore all of you if you are dying if you can break the bond between you. This will save your familiar the same fate.” 

  
“Now that’s up to you and the familiar to decide, I know many familiars who think a world without their Witcher is worse than death.” She said staring at Vesemir.

  
Geralt could tell this was a topic of contention to the couple. Particularly by the harsh set of Vesemir’s jaw. “You said that once a Witcher dies the familiar dies too, is that the same reversed? If a familiar dies does their Witcher die too?” Geralt found himself asking forgetting to raise his hand entirely 

  
Azrael shakes her head, “No only a familiar will, its to do with the fact we are essentially holding onto your soul to keep us here in this plain.” 

  
He wasn’t sure if that information made him happier or not. On one point, he wasn’t weakened by their presence, but at the same time if he wasn’t careful, he could kill someone who doesn’t deserve it, someone whom he might grow to care for if not even love them. Nothing was ever simple that was one thing he did know. “I really can’t stress this enough boys, everything your familiar will do for you, will be done with the best of intentions for you even if it doesn’t seem like it! I cannot stress this enough do not severe the bond. If you do the familiar will be forced back into the other world or potentially die from a broken heart.” He said 

  
The lesson finished up with how familiars were allergic to mistletoe and iron and how the Witcher potions can’t be used to heal them. And how all familiars have silver eyes. How all of them change into animal form, and for some of them they prefer to say in animal form over human. 

  
Vesemir finished the lesson by saying that in a weeks’ time they would all take the potion to find out who their familiar was. Geralt was unsure of how he felt about that. On one hand knowing he wouldn’t be alone did sound like fun, but even all those years ago he could still remember the stories his mother read to him of how the sidekick always died sacrificing themselves for the hero and the hero would walk alone forever. He didn’t know if he could survive that. And what if they didn’t get on very well? What if they weren’t very well matched? What if the test somehow got it wrong? 

  
For the rest of the week, Geralt was constantly restless. He was always doing something whether that be caring for his new horse Roach or doing one of his many chores. He can’t get the thought of his familiar out of his mind. What would she be like? What animal form would she take? 

  
The morning of the choosing; he was in the stables carefully brushing the tangles out of Roach’s mane. He had gone for a long ride yesterday in the hills surrounding Kaer Morhen. Once he had his familiar, they would have a rest period of a week before going out and helping the continent. If Geralt was honest going out fighting monsters seemed easier than what lie in front of him today. On many occasions Geralt had been told he wasn’t a people person. And that was amongst Witchers, who were known for being stoic. “Today is the day I meet my familiar, Roach.” He whispered next to her ears.

  
She neighed in response; her eyes focused on him. He was glad he had chosen her, looking at the other horses he had made the right decision. She was a powerful creature, and large enough for his stature. He had no doubt of her abilities on the road. “It will be the three of us on the road, so we will all have to get along.” 

  
“Geralt?” Vesemir called out from behind him 

  
Geralt turned around immediately standing to attention, Roach nudging his head with her muzzle his white hair flying across his face. Vesemir smiled, “You did choose the right horse boy,” 

  
Geralt was in fact 21 years of age, not a boy, but Witchers lived an exceptionally long time. He wasn’t exactly sure how long Vesemir had been on this continent, but it was easily 200 maybe even 300 years. Vesemir waved his hand beckoning him closer. “Let’s go,”

  
Geralt put Roach back into her stall, even though he knew that if he didn’t, she wouldn’t go anywhere. He followed his master out of the stables the sun was now high in the sky. And the field was clear and green, which it definitely hadn’t been in the winter. “Where is Azrael?” he asked, realising the brown hawk was nowhere in sight. 

  
It was odd to see the Witcher without his wife. “She is in the other world getting the others gathered.” He explained 

  
“So, you aren’t forced to be joined at the hip?” Geralt asked almost in relief 

  
The master looked across to him, “You don’t have to be together all the time, but too long apart is dangerous.” 

  
Geralt looked ahead, he was more than relieved that they could spend some time apart. Vesemir patted him on the shoulder, well more like whacked him on the shoulder if Geralt had been smaller he would have stumbled forward. “Relax boy this is a good thing!” the old man chuckled 

  
He had been training for two decades, and Vesemir had this way of making him feel like a young boy again, not that it made him feel inferior not that he would admit it to anyone, but it was nice comforting even. He was ready to leave though properly not on some training exercise, actually go out and see the continent. And an even smaller part of him might have been getting excited at meeting his familiar, just a small part. 

  
They entered the training halls. This was were a lot of the combat training was practised. However, the walls that had been stocked with weapons the day before, were completely barren. Was this dangerous? He wished he brought his swords, but perhaps that was overreacting. 

  
Sigils and candles had replaced the weapons. The room was dark and the smell of lavender, heather and something altogether musky he couldn’t quite place that scent filled the room. There were six mats on the floor, one for each of the Witchers getting a familiar: Eskel, Lambert, Józef, Sorel and Frank. Geralt went to the only vacant mat left. His was in between Lambert and Eskel. 

  
In the blink of an eye and lots of black smoke, Azrael appeared, “They are ready,” she exclaimed 

  
“You will all take a potion and go into the other world. The familiars will come to you don’t move from where you stand.” Vesemir stated 

  
He came around passing everyone a goblet. Looking inside the liquid was black, on the plus side it didn’t smell to much of anything which was a great deal better then the ones he had to consume for his trial of grasses. Once all the potions where passed out, Vesemir went to the front of the hall again. “Drink the potion,” he ordered 

  
Geralt looked at the others, watching as Frank took the potion. A smile came onto Frank’s face as he slowly laid down. Geralt waited, there was no convulsions, no foul smells and his slow heartbeat remained steady. Noticing none of the others where having any adverse effects, he too drank the goblet. Blackness filled his vision he felt himself drift to the floor, succumbing to the potion. 

  
When he woke, he was alone in the woods, at least it looked like the woods outside Kaer Morhen. Except this woods looked grey and wispy around the edges like his hand would slip through. He wanted to walk around and explore but he remembered Vesemir’s words not to move. 

  
It was cold in this other world; it was the coldest he had ever felt without having the need to shiver. He felt on edge, tense from being here. Like he knew he wasn’t supposed to be there. He could hear hushed whispers all around him. Some sounded mocking, some sounded like they were beckoning him to them, their voices were tempting. Trying to get him to move. “Show yourself!” he roared 

  
He wished he had his sword with him. It felt like forever with him just standing there, the whispers growing more impatient with him. More insistent. And every so often black smoke would come swirling past him, circling around him before flying off into the distance. All leaving him with this coldness that lingered moments after they left. He was starting to get the feeling none of them would want him. 

  
That was until a larger smoke cloud rushed for him, it circled him multiple times like it was sizing him up. This one he could tell was different, there was no coldness with this one, only a pleasant warmth that filled his being. Spreading throughout him. “Hello?” he whispered 

  
He didn’t want to scare them away. A chuckle filled his head, _“You won’t scare me handsome!”_ a voice that seemed to take up his whole mind.

  
The voice was smooth like honey, he felt like he could trust them. “Will you show yourself?” he asked 

  
The smoke cloud lowered to the ground till it became a brown cat with silver eyes. _“Hello Geralt,”_

  
“Are you my familiar?” he asked

  
_“Perhaps if you are interested?”_ it said 

  
“Are you strong?” he asked 

  
The voice laughed, _“We are all strong handsome, it’s our job to be strong!”_

  
“What’s your name?” 

  
_“Jaskier,”_ they responded 

  
In a blink of an eye the cat grew, morphing, fur shedding. In front of him stood a man not so much shorter than himself. His hair was brown it was short the only length to it was the fringe that swept across his forehead. His eyes, still that familiar silver, but there was the tiniest hint of blue to them. He was only slightly more tanned than Geralt which didn’t say much, Geralt was incredibly pale. He was in matching red leather trousers and jacket that had a scale look to them. The jacket was open slightly to reveal a grey tunic which was also opened a little, revealing a small smattering of dark chest hair. Geralt couldn’t deny that he was attractive. “Lord Vesemir said all Witchers had female familiars.” He stated 

  
Jaskier smirked, “Well Lords aren’t always right. Male familiars tend to stay here in the other world than go off.” 

  
“And you don’t want to do that?” Geralt asked 

  
“No, I want to go and see the world, I was drawn to you. Your soul is bright. The others can sense your power and are scared of your potential.” He said

  
“Are you not scared?” Geralt asked 

  
“Like I said your soul is bright, good.” A smirk spread across his face, “Besides I don’t scare easily.” 

  
Geralt nodded, he didn’t know how respond to that. “Do you want to travel the world?”

  
Geralt looked at the familiar, he couldn’t sense any bad intentions from Jaskier. And the idea of his familiar being a male surprisingly didn’t bother him. He nodded, “How do we bond?” 

  
Jaskier stepped closer, looking up at Geralt. “Trust me.” He said smiling 

  
Reaching forward he held Geralt’s hands in his interlocking their fingers together. He wasn’t as warm as Geralt. He begins chanting in elder his eyes somehow managing to glow even more. It seemed like his whole body glowed. He steps even closer to Geralt, a tightness builds up in his chest, almost suffocating. It’s not in a natural or even in an anxious kind of way. He starts to pull away, Jaskier pulling him back. _“It’s ok handsome, it’s just me hitching a ride back with you.”_ He mutters in Geralt’s mind. 

  
Geralt stills despite his best judgement, closing his eyes finding himself trusting this person he barely knows but somehow, he feels like he has known him his whole life. Everything around them seems to disappear. 

  
Opening his eyes, he was back in the training room it was much darker then when he went under. Vesemir and Azrael the only ones in the room. Looking to his side he sees Jaskier laying next to him, curling into his side a little. The familiar looked a little pale. 

  
“You ok?” he grumbled, looking down at the familiar. 

  
Jaskier nodded, “It takes a lot out of you,” he whispered 

  
“You going to introduce us to your familiar boy?” Vesemir said drawing his attention away from Jaskier. 

  
Geralt was standing up, Jaskier standing at his side he was leaning a little close to him. “This is Jaskier! Jaskier this is Lord Vesemir and his wife Lady Azrael.” 

  
Jaskier moves past Geralt, “Az! Darling, it’s been what? A hundred years?” he says smiling

  
She is smiling and embracing Jaskier, “It’s good to see you Jaskier. We will catch up later!” she insists

  
“You two run along.” Vesemir mumbled 

  
They walk out of the room, “This is Kaer Morhen?” Jaskier asked 

  
Geralt nods, “So you’re my white wolf then!” Jaskier laughs 

  
Geralt shows Jaskier around ignoring everyone’s looks. Since his extra trials he was used to people gazing at him. It was nothing new. Jaskier’s footsteps were practically silent, it was only due to his humming that Geralt was even aware that he was still by his side. “This the stables? You have your horse yet?” 

  
“Of course, I do!” Geralt huffs 

  
Jaskier is off bounding towards the stable doors, he looks around and spots Roach immediately going to her running a hand down her flank. “What’s her name handsome?” he asks

  
Geralt comes closer, Jaskier now stroking her muzzle as she nudges against his palm. “This is Roach!” 

  
“Like the fish? Hello pretty girl!” he coos, “She is a beautiful horse!” 

  
“Hmm” Geralt agrees 

  
They don’t stay long; he can see that Jaskier is tiring. He can almost feel it coming off Jaskier. He shows Jaskier a couple more places on route to his room, but not stopping which he can tell Jaskier is pleased about. Jaskier flops down onto the bed, Geralt standing by the closed door awkwardly.

Until that is Jaskier pats the bed, “I don’t bite… unless you want me to!” he said winking 

  
Geralt hums again but does relent in going over to sit on his bed. “So, what happens now?” he blurts out 

  
He couldn’t help thinking how out of place Jaskier looked in the room, in his bright attire and bright personality, even if it did make the room look a little brighter. “We leave Kaer Morhen in a week, in that time the bond needs to strengthen. I will need to keep very close to you this week while it settles. And then we just take things at our own pace, ok?” he states 

  
“So… I don’t need to do anything?” Geralt asks confused.

  
“Just be yourself!” Jaskier explains, a smile on his face

  
“I’m not much of a talker!” Geralt warns 

  
“I know, it’s ok! Our relationship is whatever we want it to be ok?” 

  
He pats Geralt’s thigh before getting up and going to the small desk and bookcase, “May I?” he asks 

  
Geralt nods, Jaskier sits back by his side reading and Geralt decides to use this time to clean his swords. Jaskier humming once again. He had to admit it was very soothing. They stayed like that till the dinner bell rings out. Geralt stands going to the door, he didn’t need to say anything Jaskier following instantly. 

  
They walk in silence towards the dinning hall, he looks to where Jaskier is to see he has turned into a cat. “What are you doing?” he asks 

  
_“People are arseholes handsome, its my job to protect you not have you be subject to bullying because I am a male familiar.”_ His voice enters the Witchers mind. 

  
Jaskier rubs against his legs, like normal cats do. _“Let’s go handsome!”_

  
He is pretty certain he either looked puzzled or possibly angry. “I’m not ashamed Jaskier! It’s a two-way street you protect me, I protect you!” he says, “Besides if you stay in that form, I will have you neutered!” 

  
The smoke billows around him, Jaskier’s laugh echoes around him. Before he is back to himself. “Your funny!” 

  
He leads Jaskier inside, and he can feel eyes on them, but he just leads Jaskier to the food and fills Jaskier’s plate before filling his own. He goes to the table where the others are sitting with their familiars. They sit down, “This is Jaskier,” he mumbles through his food. 

  
“Nice to meet you Jaskier! This is Hanna!” Lambert grins 

  
The grin makes it look like he won a battle or won a lot of coin. Her hair is fiery red, and she is covered in freckles. _“She turns into a dog!”_ Jaskier’s voice enters his head once more. 

  
“And this is Klara?” Eskel practically boasts 

  
She has dark skin and tight black curls that makes her silver eyes stand out. _“She turns into a goat!”_

  
“This is Roza!” Sorel introduces her

  
She is a pale fragile looking thing, her hair blonde and thin. _“She is a butterfly!”_

  
“Roksana!” Józef grumbles 

  
She had light brown hair and was very slim looking, _“She turns into a ferret!”_

  
“And this is Marika!” Frank says grinning

  
She had grey hair but like him with his white hair didn’t otherwise appear to be old, _“She turns into a crow.”_

  
After the pleasantries they remain silent. Jaskier occasionally saying things in his mind, mainly about how much he liked the food. Jaskier even took food off of his plate. He let him only because he still looked a little exhausted from when he came over to this world. He didn’t like the look Józef was giving Jaskier. 

  
After dinner, they were given leave of their evening sparring matches. So Geralt decided to go and feed Roach himself. Jaskier stayed outside watching the sky. Geralt appreciated that he respected his space. He took his time feeding her, “What do you think?” he asked, “Can he stay?” 

  
She hit him with her muzzle, “So, is that a yes?” 

  
She neighed in response, he patted her. And left her too her dinner. He was about to clean the stable when he heard angry voices from outside. One definitely belonging to Jaskier. Storming outside he saw Józef up in Jaskier’s face. Jaskier was backed up against the stable wall. Jaskier looked completely unfazed. “Do we have a problem?” he asked 

  
Jaskier smirked, he dissolved into black smoke curling around Geralt before materialising by his side, “No we don’t,” he said, “Let’s go.” 

  
Jaskier seemed fine so they walked off to Geralt’s room, well he should say their room. “What was he up to?” he grumbled 

  
“He was making comments on your preferences. I set him straight he started yelling and that’s when you came out.” He said shrugging

  
Even Geralt noticed the difference in Jaskier’s tone. How he looked on edge. But he also didn’t want to press him any further, he hated when others did it to him. 

  
Geralt did his evening push ups, he could feel Jaskier’s eyes on him the whole time. 

  
“Since when did the Witcher enhancements make Witchers hair white?” Jaskier asked 

  
Geralt continued doing his push ups he didn’t look up, “They gave me more potions, to make me better. They made my hair white,” 

  
“What colour was it before?” 

  
“Darker than yours,” he huffed 

  
“White suits you!” Jaskier said he could practically hear the smile in his voice. 

  
“How old are you?” he asked 

  
“400 years, but now I am bonded to you I will live as long as you do.” 

  
“That’s unfair!” Geralt pointed out 

  
“Your life isn’t exactly short is it?” Jaskier chuckled 

  
Silence filled the room again questions running through his mind, “Ask away Geralt,” Jaskier said once again Geralt hearing the smirk in his voice. 

  
“Can you always read my thoughts?” Geralt mumbled 

  
“Yes, but while the bond is forming, I can’t keep out. After the week is passed, I can control it better.” He said, “Once our bond strengthens, I will be able to teach you to communicate to me via our minds instead.” 

  
Geralt looked forward to that, “Are there any rules to having a familiar?” he asked 

  
“Not rules per say. For the next week I will need to keep very close and for a couple weeks after I will need to reinforce the bond occasionally hug you or hold your hand. After that we can be almost independent, I am sure your Lords explained that you still can’t stay away for too long?” 

  
Geralt nodded, there was one more question that was bugging him, but he didn’t know if it was appropriate, so he hoped Jaskier heard his thoughts, so he didn’t have to ask it out loud. Jaskier dropped down from his seat on the bed so he could look him in the eyes. “Our relationship is whatever we want it to be! It can become romantic, but it can also remain plutonic or even more familial, it’s up to us!” he said softly 

  
He stayed on the ground while Geralt finished his exercises. Jaskier could see many things about Geralt. He could see the Witcher was destined for great things that much was certain, yet he could also sense pain lurking in the deeper abscesses of his mind… places Geralt might not even be fully aware they exist. Jaskier had been able to visit the continent quite a few times in his 400 years of live. And he didn’t think he had met anyone else quite like Geralt.   
  


Geralt stood and changed out of his outer clothes only left in his undergarments. He went to lay on the bed before looking at Jaskier “You only have what you are wearing, right?” 

Jaskier nodded, Geralt walked over to the wardrobe and grabbed out one of his other sleep tunics and bottoms. Flinging it to Jaskier, it hits him in the face, Jaskier gasped. “Traitor!” 

He could see a faint smile on Geralt’s face, Jaskier changed in terms of height they were a little long on him and with Geralt’s bulging muscles they were a tad wide but overall fitted quite well. Geralt’s scent filling his nose. “You have scars too?” 

“Yeah from when I visited this world.” He twisted around showing off a large round scar on his back, “I got this one in Cintra, I was being a bard and I slept with a Lord’s daughter her Lord father wasn’t impressed his sword stung quite a bit!” 

He twisted again pointing to a long thin line on his shoulder, “Again playing a bard, but I defended a woman who was about to be molested, they had a knife. And I was slow from heavy drinking.” 

He sat down next to Geralt showing his arm and on his wrist was a burn. It was large covering most of his skin and mottled to the touch. “When I first came here to your world, I had been intrigued but also naïve. No one had explained what fire was to me or how bad it was, it just looked pretty.” 

Geralt raised his tunic a scar under his left pec, “During training I was climbing up the ropes and I slipped fell at least 15 feet down my rib broke pierced my skin.” He moved showing a scar on his shoulder it looked like something had pierced him through. “Went on a mission, to practise you know and I wondered off. A young fiend appeared, Aard didn’t work on it and I had to fight it with my swords I was doing ok, and I managed to slay it, but it got me in the process. It was due to that they decided I was worthy to try the other trials.” 

They were sitting on the bed facing each other slightly, Jaskier’s silver eyes staring at Geralt. It almost felt like they were staring into him, he looked away. “We better sleep.” Geralt said turning away a little 

“G’night Geralt!” Jaskier mumbled softly 

Geralt fell asleep almost instantly, Jaskier was honestly impressed. But it was so different here than his world. All the different sounds he could hear, the bright moonlight coming through the window. Changing into cat form he padded over to Geralt climbing onto his chest focusing on Geralt’s slow heartbeat, slowly managing to drift off. 

  
Geralt woke to a weight on his chest, opening his eyes he saw a brown cat curled up asleep on his chest. Looking outside his window he could see they still had a couple of hours till they had to get up. Jaskier’s fur soft against his skin, he moved his hand to come support his sleeping familiar. He lay there quietly watching him sleep. 

  
Later Jaskier woke to find Geralt asleep and his hand on his back perhaps to stop him slipping off. He managed to slip off and turn back into his human form and changed back into his clothes. “Geralt time to wake up!” he sang loudly 

Geralt’s eyes shot open, “How are you so loud?” 

“Practise handsome,” he laughed, “Come on I am starving let’s go eat!” 

Geralt changed back into his clothes, they left the room. Going towards the food hall. Jaskier trying to get Geralt to move quicker. They sat down not many others in yet and ate their food once again Jaskier took small bits of his food. “This going to be a habit?” 

“Maybe?” Jaskier smirked 

“Can I trade you in yet?” he asked a grin on his face

“Nah no one else is in the market for grumpy Witcher!” Jaskier retorted, stealing another piece of meat from Geralt’s plate. 

While Jaskier was eating his steal triumphantly, Geralt managed to stab a sausage from the thief’s plate. “Hey that’s not fair!” Jaskier moaned 

“Hmm…” Geralt said as he ate the stolen food. 

Soon the others all filtered in some of the new familiars in their animal forms this morning. Only Lambert and Franks familiars where in human form this morning. “Once you have all eaten, we have a sparring match in a couple of hours. So do your chores and meet in the field.” Vesemir said 

_“What chores do we have today then, handsome?”_

“Stables,” 

Jaskier nodded, they left before the others and went towards the stables. There were three in total. “We will finish at Roach’s stables!” Geralt said 

They went in and got to work Jaskier started off with brushing the horse’s manes and bathing them. Geralt changed the hay around. It took them a while to do the whole of the stables one, they moved onto the second set of stables. Switching roles, Geralt always liked when he got to work with the horses. Definitely preferring it to working in the lab. Eventually they made it into Roach’s stables and began their work. They finished with cleaning and started bathing Roach together, Geralt cleaned her shoes and Jaskier brushed her mane and tail. They both washed one side of her both taking a little more care than what they did with the other horses.

The stable door opened revealing Józef and Roksana now back in human form. “So how was it then?” Józef asked 

“Hmm?” Geralt mumbled 

“Fucking a bloke?” Józef laughed 

“Fuck off!” Geralt grumbled, he wouldn’t rise to his bait.

He continued his care of Roach, Jaskier could feel the anger rolling off Geralt. He was surprised how calm he was presenting though. “Eh, Roksana rein him in, yeah?” Jaskier warned 

Geralt was shocked, he had only known lightness from Jaskier even compared to the other day when Józef was being a dick he had still been light. But this was so unlike him, there wasn’t any warmth and his voice was cold even slightly unnerving, “Ignore him,” Geralt stated

  
Jaskier turned away continuing in his task, Geralt keeping an eye on Józef. His taunts were only growing cruder with time. “Did you take him like the whore he is?” Józef sneers

  
Before Jaskier can react Geralt is in front of Józef in seconds. “Stop this please!” Roksana shrieks 

  
“I will stop this,” Józef says a smirk on his face

  
He punches Geralt in the face. Jaskier smokes in front of Geralt and knocks Józef to the ground. “Don’t touch him!” he shouts punching the Witcher in the face. 

  
Geralt manages to pull Jaskier off of Józef carrying him by his waist. Pulling him back into his chest. “Leave him.” 

  
“But he needs to pay…” Jaskier hisses 

  
His silver eyes are dark and his form while Geralt has a good hold of him is wispy and fluttering. “No…” Geralt finishes 

  
Jaskier seems to calm down a little after that. “What’s going on here?” Vesemir calls from the stable doors, Azrael by his side 

  
“Jaskier hurt Józef!” Roksana shrieked 

  
“After he punched Geralt!” Jaskier shrieks back, “And I would do it again!” 

  
Józef lurches forward, but Vesemir grabs him by his collar. “Get out of here boy you can go and clean the showers, now!” 

  
He pushes Józef towards the door, Roksana looks at Jaskier a scowl on her face “If you hurt him again Jaskier I won’t be responsible for my actions!”

  
“Roksana!” Azrael warns as Jaskier hisses, “Go fuck yourself!” 

  
Geralt doesn’t put Jaskier down until they are gone from the room. “Don’t respond to them!” Geralt states 

  
“I won’t have them hurt you!” Jaskier responds 

  
“He is right boy; he cannot help it any more than you need to breath!” Vesemir said, “Go on, I am giving you the day off!” 

  
“We will have food brought to your room,” Azrael states smiling 

  
Geralt looks to Jaskier who seems a bit disorientated, he is looking pale again. He grabs his hand and pulls him out of the stables. Taking him along the more secluded walkways to their room. He held his hand the whole way to their room worried that in all honesty that Jaskier would go back and finish them off.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is set in the first year or so when they first go on the path. Just to give us a taste of young Geralt and Jaskier and to get some slow burn roasting on the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do a couple of light chapters to give us a feel for their relationship and that they are both pinning internally but also too much of dumb asses to actually admit to each other that they want to be together. After that we are going to play out what transpires throughout the Netflix series, of course with a twist and how it works with the different dynamic.

* * *

They are perhaps 50 or so miles out of Kaer Morhen, at least that’s what Jaskier reckons. And about 20 miles had been accompanied by Eskel, Klara, Lambert and Hanna. Geralt was leading Roach and Jaskier sitting on her back. He did remind Geralt that he didn’t need to rest like a human or even a Witcher did but Geralt had only smirked a little and told him to shut up and get on the horse. 

  
“Geralt?” he murmured 

  
“Hm.” 

  
“What’s the plan here? Which way are we going?” he asked 

  
“South.” 

  
“As much as I love these monosyllabic responses,” he started, “A plan might be a good idea.” 

  
“What’s there to plan? We fight monsters.” Geralt huffed 

  
Jaskier hummed and continued to brush Roach’s mane. There hadn’t been much on the path so far.   
Well except for what happened two days passed, which was why Jaskier was on Roach in the first place. The man had been huge, stinking with a bald head and he had been pulling the girl off the cart, a grin showed his rotten teeth. That was when they had arrived. The father had practically fallen off his horse and was pleading with the man to let his daughter go. 

  
He had torn the girls dress off and said, “It’s time you meet a real man.” 

  
“It’s time you met a real man.” Geralt told him 

  
He drew his sword; the man dropped the girl and drew his sword. She was stuck frozen in fear. Jaskier rushed forward to pull the girl out of the way, when the man’s sword pulled up across his back. He fell to his knees, the girl finally managed to crawl away just as Geralt delivered the killing blow. The girl screamed, Jaskier looked up to see she had been splattered with blood. She took one look at Geralt who was equally covered in blood and vomited. The look on Geralt’s face would stay in Jaskier’s mind for ages. He could feel the shame in their bond.   
The father covered his daughter chucked them a couple of coins and they disappeared. He didn’t even realise when Geralt appeared in front of him. Panic spread through their bond “Damn it Jaskier! Are you ok?” he said 

  
They moved off from the path, Geralt supporting Jaskier. Once they settled, Geralt eased off Jaskier’s doublet and chemise and began cleaning the wound, “It’s not deep, doesn’t need stitches.” Geralt murmured. 

  
Jaskier could already feel the wound healing, it had stopped bleeding a while ago and was slowly beginning to close up. “It’s ok, handsome. We are ok.” 

  
And since then Geralt had gone overboard on taking care of Jaskier, he made sure he had more food, let him ride Roach and barely let him set up camp. Jaskier couldn’t deny he slightly enjoyed the attention… just a little bit. Ok maybe a lot. 

  
Jaskier knows it will take the Witcher some time before he fully allows him to come with him on hunts, especially after that first incident. But this is starting to get ridiculous, the whole point of him is to help Geralt. Jaskier is many things but patient is not one of them.   
Jaskier is sitting while Geralt is kneeling over his potions bag. Searching for the right one for his task. He was about to hunt a Kikimore. He grabs everything and starts to head off. “Stay with Roach!” he grunts, his voice all low and gravelly and normally it would make Jaskier feel a little steamy. 

“Now just you wait a second!” Jaskier says annoyed, “I’m not a horse sitter for you. I can help you; you know!” 

“I don’t want you getting hurt for me.” Geralt murmurs, the not again being left unsaid. 

“That’s all very cute,” he huffed, “but I am not some flowery damsel in need of protecting.” 

He twists his hand and Geralt is pushed into the tree, to prove a point. Geralt scowls at him and Jaskier releases him. “Or have you forgotten what I am?” a smirk on his lips 

“I haven’t forgotten,” Geralt almost shouts, “Look can I just go do this and we can talk about this after?” 

“Fine! But you will have to trust me sooner or later!” Jaskier calls after Geralt as he stalks away.

He sits by the fire and hums to himself; he takes out his journal and quill. He had taken it from Kaer Morhen, he enjoyed writing his songs. At one point he would have to get an instrument. When they had more coin. For now, he settled on humming the tune to himself. 

Eventually he decides to rest his eyes, leaning back on the bedroll he drifts off. 

He wakes gasping, his head hurting so bad. There is so much coming through their bond its hard to make out, hard to separate himself from Geralt’s thoughts. He staggers to his feet and almost blindly stumbles into the woods searching for his Witcher. 

Everything is overloaded, his senses feel fried. He’s lucky it doesn’t take long for him to find Geralt. His armour covered in guts. The severed head by his side. Thank goodness, there was no wounds. What was concerning however was the way Geralt was clutching his ears, his eyes squeezed shut. “Geralt?” he whispers, kneeling in front of him 

Geralt’s eyes open and black eyes are staring at him, before closing almost immediately with a groan. “Too much!” he gasps 

Then Jaskier realises, it clicks into place, it was the first time Geralt had taken the cat potion. Azrael had warned him this could happen, told him how to help Geralt. He calms his mind blocking out Geralt’s frenzied panicked thoughts and pushes it through the bond. And he can see some of the tension ease from him. 

Everything is going into overdrive for the Witcher, that much is clear even without their bond. 

Geralt can see for miles everything in perfect clarity, if he were to open his eyes. But it leaves everything close up to him looking alarmingly sharp. He can smell Roach back at camp as if she were standing next to them. He can smell the oils that Jaskier wears, and where they rest vialled up in his pack. He can hear so many things, the animals crawling all around him, can hear Jaskier’s heart beating twice as fast as his own and can hear the leaves above them as they rustle in the breeze. There is so much input and nothing was making it go away. 

Jaskier helps the Witcher up and drags the kikimore head along leading them back to camp. They need to give proof of the kill to the alderman. “I’m going to take your armour off ok? Get that smell away from you. Keep your eyes closed ok.” He whispers 

Geralt nods once, his head spinning. Jaskier gets to work. He strips Geralt of all the layers covered in the monster and chucks some of soil over it, trying to mask the scent somewhat. He removes his own outer layers, so nothing feels scratchy against Geralt’s skin. He puts out the fire as well, for Geralt’s eyes, he leads him to sit on the bedroll. Before grabbing his cloak. 

He pulls his bedroll so it’s right next to Geralt’s. “Lay down Geralt.” 

They lay down onto the bedroll, and Jaskier covers them with the cloak. They are turned to face each other. He brings his hands up and recovers Geralt’s ears. He can almost hear the relief that leaves Geralt’s body. “Better?” he whispers  
Geralt nods once and mouths thank you. His arms wrap around Jaskier and pushes his head into the crook of his neck, Jaskier’s arms end up moving so he is wrapped around Geralt’s head. And strokes Geralt’s hair.

They stay like that all night, even once the pressure has left Geralt’s mind. He eventually falls asleep, Jaskier stays awake keeping the calm empty feeling going through their bond. 

Suffice to say the next day when Jaskier starts to argue about being let on hunts, Geralt agrees. 

*****

Geralt’s not sure how or when it happens, but they have been travelling the path for a year. They are resting in an inn while Geralt recovers from his latest hunt, a particularly nasty werewolf had managed to leave deep marks down his back. Jaskier tends to his wounds before going down to sing and earn some coin. The world isn’t favourable to Witchers or by extension their familiars. 

He falls asleep to the sound of Jaskier playing the lute and singing downstairs. 

  
And sometime later he wakes up to the sound of Jaskier moaning through the wall, it’s not the first time he’s heard it. They both had silently agreed that they were ok with it, it wasn’t like they were together like Eskel and Klara or Vesemir and Azrael. Why shouldn’t they enjoy themselves?   
But it is the first time it’s made his stomach feel weird and unsettled. He wonders if it’s because he is wounded, wonders if it’s because he can still feel Jaskier’s fingers on his skin. 

  
He finds it easier to decide it is, and goes into a meditative state trying to block out the sounds coming from his familiar. 

Geralt walks through the stalls. He was getting essentials, while Jaskier rested. He had been up most of the night singing, among other things. No matter who’s bed he tumbles into he always comes back to sleep by Geralt’s side. He doesn’t have the heart to wake the bard this morning, he was wrapped in sheets and looked quite peaceful, so he cut him some slack.

  
At least that’s what he tells himself it is. They had been sleeping with others for months now, and while it definitely relieved some tension, it made Geralt aware of some other problems. Not that he would acknowledge them. 

***

  
It was early and he had the hood of his cloak up and hiding him from the stares and hushed whispers of the village people. He’s not sure if they know he can hear every single word that leaves their lips, a small part, a very small part of him hopes not. 

He was almost done and couldn’t be happier as the street had started to fill up his eyes found the stall that Jaskier had been ogling the other day and Geralt had to practically drag him away from. He finds himself in front of the stall, looking down at the small trinkets that litter the table. And that’s all most of it is, trinkets. Except for the lute sat to the side, it was a plain medium coloured wood, it wasn’t very decorative, not like Jaskier. It was expensive but it was also the cheapest one he had seen. It hadn’t taken him long to notice that Jaskier had an interest in the instrument, practically purring every time he saw them. 

  
It would use up the last of their coin, but he found himself picking it up. “What would a Witcher need a lute for?” The man grumbled   
“It’s for a friend,” he muttered 

  
“Didn’t realise you had them either!” 

  
“Do you want the coin or not?” He growled 

  
The man nodded and Geralt could smell the horrible cloying smell of fear rolling off him. He shouldn’t be surprised, not anymore. He walked off towards where Roach was tied. They hadn’t planned to stay long here just so they could get some supplies and Geralt hadn’t liked the look or the smell of the stables, no Roach was better off out here. 

  
He passed her some apples letting her eat them. He sat down by her feet and looked at the plain lute. As it was it didn’t suit Jaskier’s style. “Do you think he will like it?” He asks her, lifting the instrument up for her to look at.

  
She noses it a little before snorting, she doesn’t sound very convincing. “Hm.” 

  
The buttercups that sat at the edge of the woods gave Geralt an idea. Taking out his knife he began carving. 

Jaskier woke up, stretching aching muscles that where half trapped by the sheets. Geralt was a few feet from the bed, facing away from him packing up their saddlebags. “Morning,” he whispered 

  
“Hmm.” 

  
Jaskier sat up and got changed into his clothes. “We leaving soon?” 

  
“In an hour,” Geralt mumbled, he turned around but kept his hands behind him. “I got you something.”   
Jaskier couldn’t help the shock that lit up his face. “What’s the occasion?”

  
“No occasion just saw you looking and thought you would like it. Although I am afraid I might of ruined it.” 

Before Jaskier had chance to say anything, Geralt shoved his hands out to Jaskier. A lute being shoved into his stomach. “You got this for me?”   
“No, I got it for Roach,” Geralt muttered dryly 

  
He took hold of the lute; he couldn’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes. “Thank you Geralt!” 

  
Through their bond Geralt could feel how happy Jaskier was, his fingers ran over the very bad buttercups. That he had etched into the wood. “You added these?” He asked 

  
“Well yeah,” he ran a hand up the back of his neck, “Sorry I got the idea and did it I know I ruined it but yeah…”   
Jaskier silenced him with a small kiss on the lips. “It’s perfect Geralt.” 

  
Geralt stood still in shock, he could still feel Jaskier’s lips on his. Lute was gently put down and strong arms wrapped around Geralt, only for a minute before letting him go. “Yeah, your welcome.” He mumbled 

  
As they were walking out of town, Geralt leading Roach and Jaskier tuning his lute. His fingers strumming a light tune filled their walk, of course Jaskier took to it well. He did later say how he had played the instrument before.

Geralt was looking at Jaskier with a fondness on his face, as he played. Jaskier felt love coming through their bond, directed towards him. A smile bright on his face. He continued to play. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading. X


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginnings of Jaskier and Geralt’s budding relationship. A few set points that lead to their romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had intended to post this a couple of days ago, been a bit of one of them weeks. But the chapter is here and I hope you like it! Also little reminder that italics are them talking to each other through their minds.

* * *

1206

Jaskier stood looking at the young woman in front of him, her arms were crossed tightly to her chest. And she had a look on her face that could rival Geralt’s. And they were currently in the midst of a lovers spat.

Well that might have been an exaggeration, a heated discussion at least.

He had been with the Virginia soon to be the Countess De Stael, on and off for a few years now. It had started off with just sex, but he had grown to care for her. He always had to go back and be with Geralt of course, what with the bond. But she never seemed to mind.

Virginia was amazing in every sense of the word, she worked damn hard and could cut a man’s throat with her sharp words. Knowing her, was one of the greatest gifts he could ever have. She taught him to captivate people with his songs, to not just sing the songs but to feel them. 

Her beauty was well known in Oxenfurt. She wore rich jewel toned dresses that complimented her dark skin wonderfully, her black hair was always perfectly coiffed into curls that ran down her back. Her passion and joy was never ending and neither was her wit.

But most importantly she didn’t care what he was, she just liked him.

And all he had done today to earn that glare, was come in and express his anger at Geralt for going on the hunt without him! They were supposed to be a team. He had been asked to kill the bruxa that were lurking in the woods nearby ready to pray on whoever had to cross its path. And Geralt had been angry seemingly for no reason and gone without him. He came storming back up to the gorgeous woman in front of him and she had slandered him by saying that she “could understand why Geralt was grumpy.”

He had coughed and spluttered at her, which led to her fierce gaze and her arms crossed.

“Jaskier, it’s clear that the Witcher has feelings for you.” She tells him, like it’s a fact everyone should know.

“He tolerates me half of the time,” he said, “We are friends nothing more.”

She chucks her hands up in the air in frustration, “Save me from the idiocies of men!” She yells

“Technically not a man!” He points out

The glare he receives gets him to shut up, very quickly. A soft expression falls on her face, “Can’t you just read his mind? See the depth of his feelings for you.”

“I wouldn’t just snoop around in his head, like that.” He uttered

He was many things, but he would never invade Geralt’s private thoughts. She walks over and places a manicured hand on his bicep, and gestures for him to sit on the bench. She sits to his side, holding his hands in hers. “Your scared he won’t reciprocate,” she realises, “Oh darling.”

She runs a hand through his hair and cups his cheek, he can’t help but lean into her touch. “I can guarantee that he feels the same and whether you confess your feelings to him now or in a hundred years when I am long since dust. I know he will feel the same.”

The idea of her gone sends a shiver down his spine, he truly did love her. It’s just Geralt is well Geralt. He would always come first. He slumps against her a little, he wanted to believe what she was saying but how could he? It was clear that Geralt didn’t want to see him harmed, but Geralt said time and time again, he needed no one. Jaskier wasn’t stupid he knew what it meant, he didn’t need Jaskier.“I can’t just stay here with you?” He asked weakly

She laughed softly, squeezing his hand in hers. “Unfortunately not my darling.”

He stood up and reached down to kiss her one last time on the cheek, she was going to do great. He could see that in her poise and in her attitude. “Don’t be a stranger! The next time you and your man are in Oxenfurt you will come and see me!” She said lightly, it’s an order that he wouldn’t dare refuse.

“I would never let you down, my lady.” He said bowing

***

Geralt walked back to the camp, holding his armour together. He would need to fix that tomorrow. But right now all he wanted to do was eat something and go to sleep. Exhaustion was settling deep in his bones, the potions he took still making his head feel heavy. He could hear that Jaskier was back at camp.

He didn’t want to see him right now, he had been harsh earlier. Of course he knows that. But Jaskier just made him so angry, being with **her**. Why didn’t he want him? Maybe he wasn’t enough? _“Geralt? You ok over there handsome?”_ Jaskier’s voice flittered into his mind

“Hmm.”

He walked into their camp and removed his armour, “I heated up the stew you made earlier, I know my cooking is undesirable.” Jaskier laughed

That was an understatement of the year, Jaskier had many talents that Geralt didn’t possess but cooking was not one of them. He ate in silence, Jaskier picked up his armour and began to fix it up. He didn’t ask, he just did it. “I thought you would be with her!” Geralt murmured

Jaskier looked up at Geralt, a sad look in his eyes. “No, we aren’t together anymore.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

In fact it was the exact opposite, and he felt guilty. Horrendously so, it’s not that he wanted Jaskier to be miserable. It wasn’t like that. But he didn’t want him with anyone else, he felt guilty for those thoughts, he knew how selfish he was being. Even if he was too coward to admit it. Jaskier didn’t respond he continued to fix his armour.

1216

Jaskier could sense Geralt’s anger rising, as he sat in the corner brooding as he always did. People were staring at him, they couldn’t help it. Geralt was imposing, and that glare set in his face would be enough to scare anyone, except him. Geralt hadn’t a contract in three weeks, hence the glaring. They were surviving on Jaskier’s performances, alone. The tavern they were in, were paying them with food and board. And Jaskier got to keep all his tips.

 _“Why don’t you just go upstairs, handsome?”_

Geralt looked over at him, a light scowl on his face. He took another gulp of his ale, _“I won’t leave you.”_

A warm feeling spread inside of Jaskier and a broad smile rose on his face. It stayed there for the rest of his performance. When he finished he went and grabbed them a couple of extra drinks, he sat so that he blocked Geralt from most of the crowds gaze. Could see the tension leave his Witchers shoulders, just a little. He passed him the ale, drinking his own. “They said they would bring us food in a bit,” Jaskier told him

“Hm.”

“What did you think of my performance?” Jaskier asked, “Come on three words or less?”

Geralt chuckled all throaty and rumbling deep in his chest, it was a little running joke between the two. “Hm.”

Jaskier gasped flinging his arms out a little spilling some ale onto the floor. “Just Hm?”

“Just Hm!” Geralt said smirking

“Perhaps I should find Eskel? He would offer higher praises.” Jaskier said winking

“Hm. Perhaps I should find Valdo Marx, then.”

“Geralllllt!” Jaskier whined, “That’s not fair. At least you like Eskel.”

Geralt chuckled and took another swig of his ale. A barmaid came and served them their dinner which was a roasted pork joint with potatoes and vegetables. And it was so good. They ate in silence, Jaskier looking around the room keeping an ear out for any odd conversations, that could lead to a contract.

Jaskier is almost falling asleep in his seat when he hears it. “Oi! Witcher! We don’t want your kind here!” A boorish man shouts

Geralt ignores him, _“Lets go upstairs.”_ His deep voice enters Jaskier’s mind

 _“We have every right to be down here,”_ Jaskier retorts

_“It’s not worth it!”_

Jaskier can practically feel his heart break, that Geralt just accepts their cruel words. So, he relents they start off towards the stairs to go to their room. “Oi! I don’t think ya heard us!” He shouted again

Jaskier whips round glaring at the man, letting his eyes go black for a second, “I think it would be wise for you to stop!”

The man flinches, but of course that doesn’t stop him. It never does. “What do you know whore?” the man shouts

Geralt is over in a flash hauling him up to his feet by the collar of his tunic, and a part of Jaskier knows he should stop this, knows that Geralt would want him to. But sweet Melitele, does he like seeing Geralt stand his ground, seeing him not take their shit. Even if it’s only because he insulted Jaskier. And if he’s honest it turns him on, just a little bit. “Apologise!” The Witcher burrs

One of the friends of the goes to hit Geralt, Jaskier is in front of him taking the blow. Before grabbing his hand twisting it back so the man falls to the ground. Breaking it, the sound of bones cracking erupt in the room before a loud shriek follows it.

Chaos erupts in the small tavern, Geralt and Jaskier work in tandem. Geralt’s blows are defensive but Jaskier’s make up for that. He doesn’t kill, but he breaks a few more bones, makes sure they will be left with a scar from their encounter. Anyone who failed to treat Geralt like a person, usually ended up with the same fate as these men.

Its safe to say that they don’t get to stay at the tavern and end up camping in the woods. Geralt is brushing Roach’s coat trying to calm down. And Jaskier is setting up their tent and bedrolls. “Geralt?” Jaskier murmured

He could feel the anger rolling off Geralt, even without their bond. “Not now Jaskier!” He grunted

“Don’t take it out on me for their bad behaviour!”

“Why did you answer him?” Geralt argued

“Are you blaming me?” Jaskier asked enraged

Geralt looked down a soft glare on his face. His hands were still clenched in fists but the tension in his shoulders was gone. “No, fuck.” Geralt murmured, “Just…”

“Just what, Geralt?” Jaskier demanded, “I need you to use actual words now.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt!” Geralt shouted

“You make it really hard to stay angry at you, did you know that!” Jaskier snapped, a smile on his face. “I’m not breakable you know?”

“Of course I do, you could kill me in my sleep!” Geralt tells him, “Doesn’t stop me from wishing to keep you safe.”

1219

They had been coming back from a contract, Geralt was practically out of it from the fight with the mage. Jaskier had been supporting him, he felt heavy on his side. It would be a while before they made it back to Roach and their camp. A weight he would gladly carry for the rest of his life. But he too was feeling weak, the mage had him in iron cuffs and much like dimeritium affected mages, iron made his head spin. Made him weaker. A loud shriek had Jaskier looking up, a griffin. Flying towards them, it’s talons outstretched, towards Geralt.

Without thinking Jaskier turns and thrusts Geralt far from the monsters reach. “Jaskier look out!” Geralt whimpers from the ground

Talons grab at him and he is vaguely aware of being lifted high off the ground. The griffin looks at him with dark eyes and caws loudly again. He can hear Geralt down below trying to get its attention, but it had it’s prey and no longer interested in him. He was still so weak from the iron, he couldn’t smoke out. Reaching into his boot he pulled out a dagger, slashing at the creatures talons.

Shrieking it let go, flying off. Jaskier falling through the sky, he tried his best to turn to smoke to fly safely down, but it was too late. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, he could hear Geralt call his name. His head was spinning, everything looked blurry. He felt large strong hands check his body for injuries, but he was a familiar and a 20 foot drop didn’t have the same affect it would for some others. “I’m fine Geralt, just a little dizzy.” He mumbled

“You scared me,” Geralt hissed, his voice sounded watery… well watery for a Witcher.

“Geralt?” Jaskier whispered

He sat up slowly, Geralt’s hand supporting his back the other clenched in his shirt. Their bond was going crazy, so many emotions running through that it was hard to make sense of it all, but the overwhelming sense was panic. “You can’t… fuck, Jaskier.”

“It’s ok,” Jaskier whispered

An angry look flashed across Geralt’s face and he punched Jaskier in the arm. “Ow! What was that for?” Jaskier screeched

“Scaring me!” Geralt shouted, “You were reckless, what were you thinking? You should of let it grab me!”

“Why is your life worth less than mine?” Jaskier retorted

“Because it is…”

“That’s not an answer, Geralt? Why is my life worth less than yours?” Jaskier asked

Geralt didn’t respond with words, instead the hand in Jaskier’s shirt pulled the bard closer. And Geralt was kissing him! Geralt was kissing him, the hand on his back had moved up to hold the back of his head. Jaskier melted into the touch, he was intoxicating. Everything seemed to click into place, everything seemed to make sense. Jaskier’s arms wrapped around Geralt’s neck keeping him close, gods why hadn’t they done this before.

When they pulled apart, only to get a few breaths in. Jaskier knew he would remember how chapped lips met his own, how Geralt’s hair tickled his jaw. How Geralt tasted so sweet against him. And he would remember how golden eyes were blown wide and staring at him, like he was the most important thing in the world. “I’m sorry…” Geralt began to murmur

“Don’t apologise,” Jaskier begged, “Kiss me.”

Geralt looked at Jaskier a smile on his face, “I can do that.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have kiss! *Squeals* Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt panics a little as he realises how important Jaskier is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In italics is what is being said in their minds. A little nsfw moment but pretty timid, for now! Struggled a little with this chapter hope you like it.

* * *

“Geralt?” Jaskier whinged

They were both walking next to Roach, Geralt as always holding the reins. Guiding his mare along the path. They were at the bottom of the mountain ready to make their way up to Kaer Morhen. “Geralt?” Jaskier moaned again

“What?” Geralt mumbled

“Carry me?” He moaned, “My legs are tired, my dear Witcher.”

Geralt wanted to huff at him, but he could still remember Jaskier’s fall with the griffin only a week ago. And for the most part he had let Jaskier sit on Roach. _“Fine,”_

_“You fantastic man.”_

Geralt wants to laugh at his dramatics, but he knows what his bard is like and isn’t prepared to deal with the consequences of him whining. What surprises him more is that Jaskier turns into cat form and jumps up into his free arm. “You could always sit on Roach, you know?” He says looking down at the brown cat

Big silver feline eyes look up at him, a wide grin on the cats face. _“Roach is carrying everything else up the mountain, you need to pull your weight too Geralt.”_

“Hm.”

_“No need to pout handsome!”_

Geralt ignores him and tries to suppress the smile coming onto his face as Jaskier nuzzles into his chest a little.

The day passes like this, Jaskier staying in cat form either in the crook of Geralt’s arm or resting on Roach’s back. They make good time up the mountain. Jaskier returns to human form to set up camp for them. When they go to sleep, Jaskier tucks himself into Geralt’s chest, his arm wrapping around him.

The next morning Jaskier acts like ants have crawled under his skin, which is to be expected. Especially after a lazy day, he flitters around Geralt and Roach as they walk. His form shimmery like he can’t contain himself. “I can’t wait to see everyone!”

“Hm.”

Geralt couldn’t deny he wanting to see everyone too, since the sacking of Kaer Morhen. It was two winters since the sacking of Kaer Morhen, so much had changed. Jaskier and Geralt had been late to the pass that year, it had been snowed in and reluctantly had gone and stayed in Oxenfurt. And when the snow cleared and the Witchers were prepared to make their way back down, they attacked. They were only 13 Witchers now from the school of wolf, he was worried that he would come back and there would be even fewer.

It takes them two more days of travel, making sure to give Roach plenty of breaks that she desperately deserved. The thinner atmosphere making the climb tough for her, they needed to do things at her pace. He was glad that Jaskier had bought some sugar cubes for the journey up, to treat her as they climbed higher.

They had been fortunate this year not to have come across any monsters or bandits, it wasn’t often they were that lucky. Usually they came across something, even Jaskier knew to keep quiet on the pass up. His eyes were constantly scanning the area, looking for threats.

The keep is worn looking, still heavily damaged in areas. They only have a month once they get back to try and do as much repairs before the snow prevents them. Vesemir and Azrael greet them and take them inside for food. Four other Witchers older than Geralt are also already back. Rhys and Eira who are sitting in front of the fireplace, she sits in his lap in her dog form. Mateusz and Aeres sit at the further end of the table talking quietly to themselves. And Osian, Zofia, Steffan and Ffion are talking not far from them. Ffion looks up and waves at Jaskier, Jaskier beams at her and waves back. “How was your journey back?” Azrael asked

“Surprisingly uneventful!” Jaskier said sitting down next to Geralt

“A griffin dropped you 20 feet from the sky.” Geralt grumbled, “A week ago.”

Jaskier waved him off, “It wasn’t so bad.”

Images of their kiss filled Geralt’s mind. A smirk on Jaskier’s lips. “How is everyone?” Jaskier asked

Vesemir looks down, Azrael holds his hand tightly in hers. “Osian went to a contract just outside of Sodden, was supposed to be a simple werewolf pack he found Sorel. May he be at peace.”

“May he be at peace.” Geralt, Jaskier and Azrael say in unison

“Was Roza still bonded to Sorel?” Jaskier asked

Azrael nodded, “She isn’t in the other world.”

They eat in silence, mourning the loss of another Witcher, silently all hoping that no more have lost their way on the path. Azrael is looking at Jaskier the entire meal and Geralt can tell they are having a conversation. A sad look is on Jaskier’s face, whatever she is saying. _“Jaskier?”_ He asks

Jaskier stands up the bench squeaking in protest. Him and Azrael stare at each other for a few more minutes. “If you’ll excuse me, I am weary from travel.” Jaskier says, “I think I will retire for the evening.”

Geralt follows, he stays a few feet back from Jaskier giving him space, walking up to their room. The same room that they had when they first bonded. It has few possessions that have been collected from their time in the path. He never really added too much, it was always Jaskier bringing back trinkets to clutter their space. “Jaskier?” He murmured

“Sorel had broken the bond between him and Roza but it broke her heart,” he said

“So is she still alive?”

“No, it just means her death was prolonged.” Jaskier whispered, “Breaking the bond isn’t always the cure you think it’s going to be.”

Geralt didn’t know how to deal with that information, that even if he tried to save Jaskier. That he could still end up dying too. He wrapped his arms around Jaskier and hugged him to his chest. “I didn’t know Roza a lot but that’s a horrid way to go.” Jaskier confessed, his face pressed into Geralt’s chest.

They stay like that in each other’s embrace, for a long time, taking comfort from the others presence. Eventually Jaskier leans up and kisses Geralt lips, lips barely brushing against each other. “I do believe we said we were going to have a bath when we got back.” Geralt said standing, extending his hand out to Jaskier

“Oh you do know how to treat a man Geralt!” He said brightly

They walk down to the springs, thankful it’s empty. And strip off their clothes, Geralt’s already in the warm spring. Jaskier grabs some soap and places at the edge of the spring before sinking in, they sit leaning against the other. Letting the steamy water relax their aching muscles.

Geralt was almost dozing off in the spring, Jaskier washing his body with soft circular motions that has his eyelids straining to stay open. Smoother hands than his brushed against his skin, tenderly stroking the scars that covered his chest. “Hm.” He hummed softly

“Was that a purr?” Jaskier teased, his eyes twinkling in the low light of the room. “Do I have a cat Witcher?”

Geralt couldn’t help the scowl on his face, cat Witchers were not like the others. “The only cat here is you!”

Jaskier hummed in agreement, and began washing his hair soft motions that easily could sent Geralt to sleep. If not for the fact that Jaskier had taken to straddling his thighs, his hands reaching back to Geralt’s hair. It was an awkward angle, yet extremely pleasant. Jaskier’s length hard and would brush against Geralt’s stomach every time Jaskier reaches forward to wash the back of his hair. _“Jaskier?”_ He practically moaned in Jaskier’s head

“Yes handsome?”

Arms wrapped around Jaskier pulling him closer. Lips nipping, sucking at the tender flesh of his familiars neck. Jaskier’s fingers wound into Geralt’s wet hair. The man on top of him let his hips grind down on Geralt’s lap their cocks rubbing together, the friction intoxicating.

Geralt’s hands slide down Jaskier’s body, tracing the contours of his skin. _“I want you, Geralt!”_ Jaskier moaned in his mind.

A low rumble left Geralt’s chest, he pulled back a little. He took the wash cloth that Jaskier had cleaned him with and began washing him. Trying to be as tender as Jaskier had been. _“Cruel man!”_

 _“I want our first time in our bed, not somewhere anyone can see us,”_ Geralt confessed looking down

Jaskier’s hands cupped his cheek, blue eyes staring at gold, his thumbs stroking along Geralt’s jaw. _“I couldn’t agree more, love.”_

They washed fairly quick and dressed as quickly as they could. Before practically running back to their rooms, Jaskier’s laughter filling the halls. Geralt followed, felt like he was stalking his prey. “Come and get me Geralt!” Jaskier laughed   
  


* * * *  
  


Geralt was working in the stables, mucking out the stalls while Ffion and Hanna brushed clean the horses coats. Cöen reshod the horses, he always left Roach alone, she wouldn’t except anyone else touching except for Geralt or Jaskier. A fact that secretly made Geralt happy.

Ffion came into the stall he was cleaning, her curly brown hair scraped back from her pale face. “What was Jaskier tasked to do today? Please tell me it isn’t cooking!” She said her face scrunching up

Geralt chuckled, “No Vesemir values his life! He is in the garden today.”

There were two gardens in Kaer Morhen, one for the alchemy ingredients and one for food. Jaskier was in the first one, he believed with Frank and Aeres. “How was the path? Jaskier told me that you had some trouble with a griffin?” She said

“It could have been worse,” he whispered, smiling remembering their kiss.

“I am sure it could have!” She said winking

She went to reach for the pale of water to replace it for him, when she doubles over in pain gasping for breathe. “Ffion?” He whispers crouching down beside her

She grabs his arm, “He’s gone!” She sobs

“Who’s gone?”

“Steffan!”

A horribly vulnerable cry leaves her lips as she cries out. He holds her trying to offer some comfort, he isn’t aware of the others coming into the stables. She shakes uncontrollably in his arms, he’s vaguely aware of how her body starts to lose form slowly before she disappears entirely. Her pain and sadness lingers imprinted in his mind. Searing his brain.

He hears someone crouch down in front of him, “Geralt?” Jaskier whispers

He looks up to see tears in Jaskier’s eyes, he looks back down to his arms that had held her in his arms. She’s gone without a trace, nothing left of her, like she didn’t even exist. Jaskier’s hands cover his own. “What happened?” He asked, his voice not sounding like his own.

“Steffan, Rhys and Ifan were fixing the roof.” Eskel muttered, “The roof caved in, Rhys and Ifan were lucky to hit something soft.”

Vesemir was walking towards him, a sad look on his face with Azrael by his side. Jaskier pulled him up, why did his legs feel like lead? He pulls him out of the stable and back towards the keep. He can see the caved in roof, see Eira tending to Rhys’ wounds and Ifan and Nikola kneeling by Steffan. His body bent in a way it shouldn’t, Ifan’s hand on the dead Witchers chest, they had trained together. _“Geralt?”_

When did he stop walking? Jaskier is still holding his hand in his, lute callouses rub against his skin. Jaskier is looking at him concerned, and he knows he should say something offer some comfort to his bard. Him and Ffion had grown quite close after his and Geralt’s first year on the path. _“C’mon Geralt lets go back to our room, ok?”_

He let Jaskier drag him along. Would that happen to Jaskier? If he didn’t sever the bond, if he was close to death. Would Jaskier just disappear like he didn’t exist? But then he remembered Roza, how she had still died even with the severed bond. Was Jaskier doomed because of him? _“Geralt, I’m not going anywhere!”_

He was being sat down, he could smell their scents mingled together it must be their room. Jaskier was kneeling in front of him holding his large scarred hands in his slightly smaller ones. “Geralt, darling?” Jaskier whispered, “Your scaring me, talk to me love.”

Geralt’s head jerked up, there was a sadness in Jaskier’s eyes. And a slight tremor to his hands, which he didn’t realise was actually because of his own body. He pulled Jaskier up and into his lap holding him tightly, burying his head into the crook of Jaskier’s neck. “I’m ok,” he whispered

Jaskier held him as tightly as Geralt held him. His hands rubbing soothing patterns into his back. “You’re a bad liar Geralt.” He muttered

“Your…” Geralt pauses he doesn’t want to say the words, he can’t bring himself to say those words.

“That’s how all familiars go, but it’s better than living without our Witcher.” Jaskier said softly

He shook his head he didn’t believe that, he couldn’t. He remembered Ffion’s anguished cries, how her hands gripped him. He could smell how scared she was. Jaskier lets go of him and takes off his boots and his outer clothes and helps him out of his. Before getting Geralt in their bed under the furs and blankets. 

Geralt’s nose pressed into Jaskier’s brown hair, surrounding himself in the comfort of his familiar. Embracing the love that was coming through the bond.  
  


* * * *

The next week goes slowly for Geralt, a tightness coils in his stomach when he sees Jaskier up on the roof helping to fix it. Jaskier refused to let Geralt up there, claiming he was too muscular to go up there, despite Eskel being up there who was definitely more muscled than he was.

He had also noticed how Vesemir and Azrael would wonder down to the garden in the morning, her arm linked with his. Smiling up at him or chuckling at something the older Witcher had said. He watched the care that Vesemir gave her, the way he brushed her black hair back from her face, or always offered his hand to her. As they tended the garden, they did it in harmony, when Vesemir needed a trowel it was already in Azrael’s hand. Or when she needed more water to feed the plants, the man was already starting to do it.

They moved like they were in tandem with each other.

He saw how Eskel had been withdrawn ever since his incident with his child surprise, the large scar that webbed across his face. That had acted as a mask hiding the man Geralt loved as a brother. Yet when he was with Klara, sitting in front of the fire in the hall. They were on the stone floor, Eskel reading aloud to Klara as she stroked his hair tenderly, occasionally stroking the scar. Only love on her face.

He sounded like the Eskel before everything happened.

He watched as Cöen brushed Bronwen’s ginger hair smoothing the hair ridding it of tangles. Like Jaskier did for him when he washed Geralt’s hair. He noticed how Cöen would let his fingers bring her hair back and braid it down her back. And the braid wouldn’t stay for long before he was undoing it and redoing it. Bronwen would often fall asleep, her back resting against his legs. They would stay like that all evening, Cöen would then pick her up in his arms carrying her up the stairs to their room.

He realised that Cöen’s braiding was keeping him calm, when he wasn’t before.

He could see Lambert and Hanna in the courtyard, sparring together. She carried a steel sword almost as well as any Witcher. It looked natural in her grip, they would fight for ages. Lambert occasionally stopping to correct her footwork, it was always her footwork. But the power in her strike would often have Lambert stumbling backwards, Geralt could hear his laughter coming through the open window. When they finished, Hanna would walk forward Lambert’s fingers would go into the back of her blonde hair and pull her in for a kiss. She shoved him back, saying something Geralt couldn’t hear. And suddenly she was in dog form and running with Lambert running after her. A smile on his face.

And for once, Lambert didn’t seem so angry and defensive.

Was he doing enough for Jaskier? It always seemed like Jaskier was taking care of him, he saw how his family loved cared for their familiars without so much as a second thought. His mind kept drifting back to Ffion, Jaskier deserved to be spoiled just like the others get treated by their Witchers.

He listened as Jaskier was talking with Eskel about a book he had read while they had been in Oxenfurt, saw how his face lit up. Eskel had always enjoyed the same things as Jaskier, had similar interests. It had always made Geralt a little jealous.

Jaskier is everything and more, he lights up the room simply by walking into it. He is everything that Geralt can’t be and so much more. He slips away from the hall and goes up to their room. Guilt eating him up inside.

Jaskier was discussing the book he had leant to Eskel about poetry, it was nice that at least some of the Witchers shared the same interests as him. Klara comes back over with an ale for herself, sitting in Eskel’s lap. Her tight black curls almost hiding his face, Eskel resting his head on her shoulder.

He looks around to see Geralt, but he isn’t there. “I’ll see you guys later.” He says brightly

He follows their bond and ends up outside their room, he opens the door but doesn’t go through. “You decent, my darling Witcher?” He laughs

“Hm.”

Going inside he can see that Geralt is polishing his lute for him. “Oh what’s this?” He coos

Geralt doesn’t respond just continues polishing the lute, with the same care he gives to polishing his swords. To anyone else Geralt would look completely relaxed nothing on his mind or troubling him. But Jaskier could see him, truly see him. He sits on the bed next to him, thighs pressed together, “Ducat for your thoughts?”

His hands stilled on the lute, tracing the buttercups etched there. “Nothing,” 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing! I know you Geralt, I know when there is something on your mind.” Jaskier said

 _“I’mnotgoodenoughforyou.”_ Geralt says quickly

“What would give you that impression?” Jaskier asked in disbelief, he moved the lute from Geralt’s hands and held the Witchers hands in his.

“The others, do more for their familiars than I do for you!”

“That’s not true, my darling.” Jaskier said kissing his forehead. “Besides our relationship is ours, we define it by ourselves not by others.”

“Hm.”

“You take care of me in so many ways.”

Images flooded Geralt’s mind, when Jaskier ruined his boots and Geralt gave him a piggyback through the swamp. Or when he gave Jaskier his lute, the multiple jealous partners of Jaskier’s previous bed partners that Geralt protected him from. Images of Geralt in the week leading from the griffin to getting to Kaer Morhen of their kisses and embraces. Jaskier’s hand brushing his jaw, their first time in bed together. “My dear silly Witcher, how can you not realise how much you have done for me?” He whispered

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. X


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything in italics is the boys talking to each other telepathically.

* * *

“C’mon Geralt!” Jaskier said jumping up and down as they walked towards the village square.

He had been like this all morning, before they had left the inn they were staying in. Geralt trudged along behind him, wishing he was back at the inn or back on the road. He was feeling rather jealous that Roach was far away in the stables, away from the crowds. They were in a small backwater that frankly Geralt couldn’t remember the name of, not that it mattered they would be gone by morning tomorrow, but it was Belleteyn. Which meant that Jaskier wanted to stay and celebrate, claiming that it was a holiday for bards and lovers, the reason Geralt had been forced into coming along.

He had fixed Geralt with a scowl, when he tried to get out of it. His hands on his hips and told him to embrace the festivities, that the Witcher would enjoy a day of respite. Which is true he would enjoy a day of respite… away from humans.

The streets were filled with large crowds. Kids were running around, teenagers were dancing around the may pole weaving ribbons down its length as they spun around it. The smell of spices, flowers and perfumes attacked his nose. The music was loud, the people were even louder. And he just wanted to leave. There was too much for him to keep an eye on. Nothing for him to shut it out.

He had talked to his other brothers about how they dealt with how they dealt with the heightened senses, they had said after the first couple of years their bodies had settled and had gotten used to their new senses. He supposed that this was as a result of his extra mutations. It was the only thing that made sense, why he wasn’t normal.

Jaskier had disappeared off to a market stall, talking with a lady clearly haggling for something, a bright smile across his whole face. He knew he would bear the commotion, to continue seeing that smile on his face.

Eventually Jaskier came rushing over something behind his back, “I have something for you!”

He wanted to chastise the familiar they didn’t have a lot of money at the moment to go spending on things, Jaskier thrust his hand out holding a new dagger, Geralt could see it was silver. “Your one is looking a little sorry!” Jaskier said beaming at him

The blade was well balanced in his hand, the silver glinting in the light. It was definitely something that he needed, he supposed he wouldn’t tell him off. “Thanks.” He muttered, a small smile on his face.

He followed Jaskier around as the bard enjoyed the festivities. He was Jaskier’s shadow here, he followed silently and pretended to not hear some of the peoples comments about him. Wondering what a freak was doing at their festival. Jaskier’s hand found his, fingers squeezing his own.

He pulled them to a small tabled area, getting him to sit. Jaskier practically pranced away when he came back with ales, _“Don’t look at me like that! Our drinks and food are free if I perform later!”_

_“What look?”_

_“That sour look you give me when I spend our money!”_

_“You mean my normal look?”_

_  
“GERALT?”_

Jaskier began preparing for his performance later, deciding what songs he would sing. Their dinner was brought out, Jaskier still hunched over his songbook trying to pick the perfect songs for Belleteyn, “Jaskier.” Geralt murmured

He continued flicking through the pages barely looking up. “Hm?”

He brought a large hand over Jaskier’s book, pulling it away a little. “It’s time to eat now,”

“But I need to pick the right songs.” He whinged, trying to claw the book back

“Any song you pick is going to be better than anything this lot can do! Besides, you were so excited about Belleteyn, don’t waste it picking songs.” he took the book away and pushed his plate closer to the bard. “Eat.”

A smirk rose on Jaskier’s face, “Stubborn Witcher.”

“Eat.”

*******

Jaskier did promise to leave his songbook alone for the rest of the festival, which was a blessing in itself. Even if that meant he dragged around the poor Witcher by the hand taking him to all the stalls.

They watched as men showed off their guilds, using the festival as a way to try and bring more trade their way.

And Jaskier was relishing in the festival, taking so much joy out of the day. He made sure to do as much as he could. He painted on the sidewalks with the children, large flowers that were patchy because they didn’t have enough paint. Geralt stayed off to the side, he didn’t interact with children.

They went to some of the games that had been laid out for the day. Jaskier managed to convince him to try ring toss. And of course Geralt won the game, he was awarded an ale for his victory. Which definitely made him much happier. Jaskier couldn’t manage to get him to join in the other games, which was a shame, but the others were more team based and that wasn’t a good idea.

Jaskier joined some women in making flower crowns, Geralt sitting on the ground by his side. The women looked at Geralt suspiciously at first, but after a while they seemed to ease up. He reckoned it was Jaskier’s doing, it usually was. His head soon ended up tilted back against Jaskier’s leg his eyes closed, meditating. Trusting Jaskier to be aware for him.

“These flowers would look good in his hair!” One of the women suggested to Jaskier.

Indicating to the blue and yellow flowers in the basket, “My lady I have never heard a better suggestion.” Jaskier said smiling brightly

She braided the crown together while Jaskier plaited Geralt’s hair weaving some of the flowers into his hair. That stood out lovely against his pale hair. She passed the crown over for Jaskier to place on his head. “Jaskier, what are you doing?” Geralt murmured his eyes still closed

Jaskier leaned down to kiss his forehead, “Nothing darling I promise!”

The women were trying to suppress their giggles. Geralt eyed him up curiously “Then why is there something on my head?”

“Don’t ruin this moment for me,” he said poking Geralt’s cheek.

“Hm.”

Eventually Geralt did remove the flower crown, to gently place it on Jaskier’s head. He was pretty certain his Witcher didn’t know about the flowers weaved into the braid and he wasn’t going to tell him otherwise. He looked too good with a little colour, he could stand to have a little more colour in his wardrobe, both Lambert and Eskel looked beautiful with the pops of colour they wore.

*******

Geralt sat at the back of the crowd, Jaskier was centre of the makeshift stage. Singing a jaunty tavern song made polite for the kids still in the audience. Strumming his lute while the crowd cheered and clapped along. Just in front of the stage was a small area for people to dance.

The sky darkening and the lanterns that were attached from building to building, emanating a soft glow in the village square. The air was a little chillier now then it had been. And the hustle and bustle from earlier had petered out. 

Jaskier danced around the stage, before he inevitably made him way into the crowd. Jaskier proffered being amongst his audience said it made for better coin. It was one of the reasons he loved watching Jaskier perform, seeing how he could make any crowd fall for him. Even when Geralt was nearby. Nobody cared that a Witcher was brooding in the corner when Jaskier was playing.

Jaskier’s eyes were always on him, no matter where Jaskier went in the crowd he would keep his eyes trained to Geralt. Even when he would spin around and weave through the crowd, his eyes would remain fixed on Geralt.

When Jaskier finally finished performing he came running over his heartbeat going that little bit faster, “Dance with me!” He blurted out

“Witchers don’t dance.”

The scowl that Geralt dreaded came back on Jaskier’s face, the scowl that usually meant that Geralt was going to do whatever the bard wanted. “Eskel dances with Klara,” Jaskier pouted

“The rest of us don’t!”

“Oh really!” Images flashed in Geralt’s head of some of his brothers dancing with their familiars

“I don’t dance.” He corrected

“Geralt!” Jaskier warned

When he made no move to come forward, Jaskier sighed and Geralt thought he might of won the argument. If only he was so lucky.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jaskier twist his hand, Geralt being pulled reluctantly into Jaskier’s grabby hands. “That’s better.”

“That’s cheating!”

“Then you should of done what I said darling.” Jaskier cooed, kissing him on the jaw. “We can stay back here so no one sees your bad dance moves.”

“Will it shut you up?” Geralt asked hopeful

“Definitely!”

He wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s waist and pulled the mans left hand into his right hand. Jaskier’s free hand resting on his shoulder, a purr rumbling in the back of the bards throat. “Thank you.”

Jaskier’s head came down to rest on Geralt’s shoulder as they swayed together. Following the slow beat of the music that had started to play. While he didn’t want to admit it, Geralt did really like dancing with Jaskier. _“Love you.”_

_“Love you too, Jaskier.”_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading xx


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier have a little pillow talk, was watching the show and I was stuck on the fact Geralt tells Visenna that she couldn’t call him Geralt that Vesemir gave him that name and this chapter came into being. This is the last chapter giving context to their relationship and setting the groundwork of the story after this we head to Blaviken! 
> 
> Italics are them talking to each other through mentally.

* * *

Geralt dropped down onto the hard mattress, sweat covering his skin. Jaskier equally covered in a sheen of sweat laying by his side, his cheeks flushed and his pupils blown wide with pleasure, he looked gorgeous. He was glad that Jaskier had gotten free board for performing in the tavern, it wasn’t often they got to enjoy the luxuries of a bed to make love in outside of Kaer Morhen. He was almost drifting off when he felt Jaskier’s fingers dancing across his skin lightly grounding him and keeping him awake. “Geralt?” Jaskier whispered

“Mmm.”

“Tell me something no one else knows.”

One golden eye peaked open to look curiously at the familiar to his side. “Why? Surely you can see it in my head?” He mumbled

An offended look swept across the bards face, huffing out in annoyance before tapping Geralt on the nose chastising him. “I don’t snoop, Geralt!” Jaskier told him sternly, “Indulge me, please?”

“What do you want to know?” He asked, even without their bond he could sense this was important to Jaskier, why he couldn’t fathom but he could see it in his eyes.

Jaskier seemed to think about this for a while, his fingers stilling against his newest scar it sat low on his rib cage, from a fight against a nest of drowners. “Do you remember her?” He asked

Geralt didn’t have to ask who Jaskier meant by that. There was only one person he could mean, as much as he wanted to he couldn’t forget her. A pang of sadness would fill him when he saw a woman with red hair or when he worked for druids their magic would remind him of hers and leave him feeling empty, sometimes on his way back up to Kaer Morhen he would take the route she abandoned him on and could remember how sad and lost his voice had been calling out for her until Vesemir found him. 

These were all just feelings, he could recall no physical memories of her they were lost long ago to the decades, he decided that was the best. He needed it to be. If he remembered a kind caring woman it would make it all the harder her giving him up. “Little bits mostly, it’s been so long.”

“Such as?”

“Why is this important?” Geralt asked

“During winter at Kaer Morhen, Vesemir said that he chose your name,” he murmured into Geralt’s side. “Didn’t she give you one?”

“She did but I was so angry I didn’t want to go by it. When Vesemir got angry I wouldn’t reply to it, he gave me a new name.”

Jaskier leaned over Geralt’s chest, resting his head on his chest, the bards chest hair tickling his side. He brought a large hand up to brush brunette locks out of his face so he could see the silver eyes looking at him. “Do you remember your name?”

“Geralt is my name, the only one of import. She didn’t raise me, she lost that right.” He said anger rising in his voice he tried to keep calm it wasn’t Jaskier’s fault. “If I do its buried deep down, it’s been about 70 years since I last heard it.

“Can I look, Geralt?” Jaskier asked

He stayed quiet for a long time, did he really want to know? Did he want to see that? If Jaskier had asked him years ago it would of been a no straightaway but now he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, what she would be like. In the end it wouldn’t change how his life is now, this was his life, Jaskier in his arms was what mattered not a woman who gave him up. “Hm.” He said in agreement

“This is one of those times I need a verbal answer darling.” Geralt still felt a shiver go up his spine even after all these years from Jaskier’s many pet names.

“Yes.”

Jaskier’s hands trailed up to his neck, fingertips grazing his jaw. Eyes burning bright. It felt as if suddenly Geralt was being hurled back into his mind.

*****

“Ma!” A little boy called out

Geralt watched as if from the sidelines, as a little boy ran around a small house. With dark brown hair that curled on top of his head and green eyes that shone with happiness. And somehow despite it looking so unlike himself, Geralt knew that this child was him.

“Ma? Where are you?” He called out

“In here,” a woman called back

He ran into the other room, Geralt followed as if attached to the boy. A woman with red hair stood over a table cutting herbs, she was tall and thin in a red dress that matched her hair that was pulled into a braid. Her skin was a little darker than the child’s but completely unblemished he imagined it was to do with magic. His eyes were the exact shade of green as hers. Visenna, this was his mother he thought seeing her he would be flooded by memories of before but she remained blank to him he was certain she could have walked past him and he would have been none the wiser. She was clearly working on potions, he knew he hadn’t been completely wrong on her having magic. “Can I help?” The boy asked sitting on the stool on other side of the table, he suspected it was there for him.

“You know you can’t, only grownups can touch these herbs!” Her voice wasn’t motherly like he imagined but it wasn’t harsh either.

“When I’m a grownup and a knight, can I help you then?” He asked

The look in her eyes and the slow nod of her head, Geralt knew she had already planned to give him away, that she always knew. “A knight? Like you father.” She said clearly distracting the boy.

He nodded a huge grin spreading across the small chubby cheeked child. “Tell me about him?” He begged, clasping his hands together. 

“Korin, was a brave man. He fought valiantly everyday, he made sure to do what’s right. He didn’t slay dragons and he helped those who needed help.” Geralt recognised the look in her eyes, similar to the look that Jaskier had in his eyes for him. It was clear that she had loved him.

“I won’t slay dragons either!” The child boasted loudly, puffing his chest out.

“No?”

“No I will be like father!” He said

“You already are, Koren.”

She stood up and walked around to the other side of the table, the boy standing up. She knelt in front of him and brushed hair from his face, pulling him in for a hug. The boys small arms wrapped around her neck as she hugged him tightly. Geralt felt entirely uncomfortable watching them, he wanted... no needed to get away from this now.

_I need to get out of here._ He thought desperately to his familiar.

_*****_

Jaskier pulled Geralt out of his mind. Emotions surging through their bond, sadness and rage almost overwhelming. Jaskier shuffled closer till he was almost touching Geralt’s side, staying close enough to comfort but not overloading him by clinging to him. They stayed like that for ages, in silence.

“I’m sorry Geralt I shouldn’t of made you do that.” Finally breaking the silence.

“She knew.” Geralt whispered

“Knew what, darling?”

“She knew she was going to give me up even then.”

“It’s her loss, she didn’t realise what a fantastic person she had in front of her.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt, his Witcher wrapping his arms tightly around the bard. Feeling the tightness in his shoulders ease at the contact. “Koren of Rivia.” Jaskier said frowning a little as he did so, “Geralt is much better.”

Geralt huffed with laughter, Jaskier rose up his arms bracketed either side of Geralt. A smirk on his face, “You would be a shitty knight!” Jaskier laughed 

“Oh really?”

Jaskier nodded as Geralt’s arms shifted around his waist, flipping them around so Jaskier was pinned beneath him. “Do you want to correct that statement?”

“Never!” Jaskier shrieked

Jaskier’s laugh echoed throughout the room as Geralt peppered his neck with kisses.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy! X


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally came to a prong in the road, Geralt blessedly stopped, giving the bards feet a break. Jaskier looking at him something didn’t feel right, hadn’t felt right since Geralt had agreed to the contract in Blaviken. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to Blaviken Geralt?” he asked a small smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we have hit where the series starts, I am splitting the Blaviken episode into two chapters as it was so bulky. Anyway I hope you like.  
> The conversations through their minds is in italics and song lyrics are in bold italics.

* * *

Jaskier was fed up, his stubbornly handsome Witcher had made them walk for ages, to give the bloody horse a break. Oh no Jaskier, Roach has enough to carry without carrying us too! Jaskier maybe essentially immortal but he did not have his partners endurance, his feet ached, a lot. He refused to give Geralt the satisfaction of admitting that his albeit fashionable boots were not practical as walking boots, they had been too good to pass up though. Geralt had lectured him on the purchase, saying they didn’t have enough coin to buy for fashion only, Jaskier had added thicker soles into the shoes to make them slightly better and he was so glad he had the foresight to do so.

They finally came to a prong in the road, Geralt blessedly stopped, giving the bards feet a break. Jaskier looking at him something didn’t feel right, hadn’t felt right since Geralt had agreed to the contract in Blaviken. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you to Blaviken Geralt?” he asked a small smile on his face.

Geralt nodded, “Go to your song contest and then we will meet in Roggeveen.”

Public opinion on Witchers was fragile… that was being kind. Thus Geralt avoided his bardic competitions as much as possible, he would still go occasionally go to support Jaskier. To be honest it was nice that Geralt allowed him to live outside of being a familiar he knew others weren’t given that. He knew they were happy and that was the main thing, but Jaskier had always hated feeling trapped, he had never felt that with Geralt. “You sure darling? I have a bad feeling about this.” He murmured

“I’ll be in Blaviken three days at most, the reward for the kikimore is too good to pass up!” Geralt stated, the fact they were desperate for coin left unspoken between the two. “And two days later I will be in Roggeveen, with you.”

With you, those words always made Jaskier feel all tingly. “Summon me if you need me?” Jaskier begged

Geralt stepped forward, his hand brushing Jaskier’s cheek, rough callouses caressing him. He pushed his face into Geralt’s hand. The bond practically singing at the contact, it always did when Geralt showered with affection.

Geralt would not summon his familiar, Jaskier had been so excited for this competition for months. He had been spending his evenings composing nonstop. He had to go and show off his skill, he deserved too. He wouldn’t take that from his familiar. “Of course,” he grunted, trying to placate the bard.

Jaskier turned his head to kiss Geralt’s palm a smirk on his face, “You’re a terrible liar Geralt!”

“Hm.” A small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

They stayed with each other a few moments longer, Jaskier getting all the cuddles he could with his Witcher, he walked over to the mare, stroking Roach’s mane softly. “Look after him Roachie!” Jaskier whispered to her, she huffed at him in response.

_“Don’t call her that!”_

_“Such a beautiful girl deserves a cute nickname!”_

_“Hmm.”_

Geralt went into his saddlebag and pulled out one of his silver daggers, reaching down he tucked it into one of Jaskier’s boots. Before standing again, Jaskier hefted his bag onto his shoulder and his lute across his back. A soft kiss pressed into Jaskier’s lips, _“Take care, Jaskier!”_

_“And you better stay alive without me there to save your devilishly handsome arse!”_

Geralt chuckled out loud, _“You say that like you own it?”_

Jaskier smirked before reaching round to squeeze the strong muscular globes of Geralt’s arse. _“Who says I don’t?”_ Geralt couldn’t help the eye roll he directed at him.

“You better get going or you wont reach Roggeveen before nightfall.” Geralt murmured

He stole one more kiss from his partner, before walking off. He could feel Geralt’s eyes on him as he walked away. He could hear Roach stomping her feet a little impatient. He was glad that Geralt had Roach with him otherwise it would have taken Geralt even longer to get to Blaviken, he was lucky that it wasn’t too far for himself.

With their bond the men could be parted for up to a week before Jaskier would start to feel ill and his hold in this world would start to waver, Geralt wasn’t affected in the same way as Jaskier but he would be weaker by the end of the week. When his body started to waver he would find himself being flung back to Geralt, if for some reason he was trapped he would be flung back to the other world. It enforced the realisation that Jaskier was lucky that Geralt let him wander and be free, he knew Kaer Morhen Witchers were good for that but he had heard rumours of other schools not being as relaxed. And the fact that his darling grumpy Witcher really hated these events, and wouldn’t be caught dead at one.

*******

When he arrived at the lordly house where the singing contest was being held, it was very dark but he had managed to make it in time to have dinner. The life of a Witchers companion didn’t give one much opportunity for the finer things in life, not that he would have it any other way but he did enjoy these moments it was like a holiday. He only wished he could convince Geralt to come with him on occasion.

One of the servants led him to one of the guest rooms, which was much bigger than any room that they had stayed in outside of Kaer Morhen. He got settled, changing out of his current doublet and trousers that were covered in dust and using the basin of water that had come to his room shortly after he arrived to wash himself down and clean his hair. Before dressing in his other set of doublet, this one was for performances not like the travel one he had been wearing. This one was blue with flowers embroidered into the fabric, Geralt like this one.

When he was all clean and dressed he went downstairs to meet the other bards. The one thing with bards was they could drink, of course they had nothing on Witchers or familiars but they certainly could hold their own. There were a few he had meet in passing but he didn’t know many of them especially not by name.

He had been getting on with two in particular a man called Valdo and a woman called Priscilla. They began drinking, Priscilla drank far more than Valdo and held her alcohol far better. Jaskier of course had to pretend that the alcohol had any effect on him, when Geralt wasn’t with him he tried not to give away what he was unless he trusted the company he was with, like Virginia. “Is it true that you travel with the Witcher Geralt Of Rivia?” Valdo Marx asked

“Yes, it is indeed.” he said smiling

“Is it true that it has no emotions?” he asked a wicked grin on his face.

Jaskier could feel the anger rising in him immediately, how dare he? This stupid ignorance was one of the many reasons he hated humans, they were so blind to anything different from them. And he knew he was drunk and that maybe he didn’t mean anything he said but he was very protective of his Witcher. “No,” he said sharply, “Of course HE has emotions.”

“They say that they fuck their horses!” Valdo laughed; his words slurred at the alcohol consumption.

“Valdo, shut up!” Priscilla warned

“Why would he when he is busy fucking me?” Jaskier responded dryly

Everyone went silent. He sipped at his alcohol. Trying to remain calm, no matter how hard it was. “Why would you want to fuck it? You just need to find a real man!” Valdo sneered, “I can show you a good time!”

Jaskier was up and slamming the bards face into the table, the whole room silent. The knife from dinner pressed against the bards throat, “Call him, it one more time and I will make you into a eunuch are we clear?” He growled 

His eyes glowed a little causing the man to shrink back, nodding quickly before scampering away from Jaskier. He brushed off his doublet and walked out of the hall away from the others. “Wait Jaskier!” Priscilla called running after him

She passed him a drink, a smirk on her face “Honestly thank you for that! Made the night much funnier. He deserved it.”

They walked together towards the sleeping quarters, “I don’t know if I have made too many friends, though!” He laughed

“Fuck that! Trust me they will be singing your praises once morning comes.” She paused for a second, “Or maybe they are scared you will set your Witcher on them!”

“Oh he wont do that!” Jaskier laughed, “Jaskier I don’t get involved in the petty squabbles of men.” He said mimicking Geralt’s deep burr

She laughed along, “You must be close to him?”

“He is the only one for me.” He said softly

“Then he is very lucky to have you in his corner.” She said, “If you ever need somewhere to stay me and my man Zoltan live in Novigrad he has a tavern called Rosemary and Thyme, that’s where I play. If you and your Witcher need somewhere to stay.”

“Thank you Priscilla.” 

They part ways and he head off to his rooms and flops onto the bed and can see his lute in the corner the buttercups etched into them staring at him, yes they were crude in design, Witchers weren’t artists after all but how could anyone think they had no feelings that they were scarcely human. It was beautiful to Jaskier the buttercups and it just made him angry all over again that someone judged them without knowing them. _“You are angry?”_ Geralt’s voice entered his mind

 _“Yes, I bloody am.”_ He sent back, he picked up his lute and began strumming outlay trying to calm himself.

_“Don’t keep me in suspense! What happened?”_

Jaskier liked how freely Geralt spoke with his mind, he was far chattier through his mind then his words, another symptom of humans stupidity. _“A bloody prick by the name of Valdo Marx saying…well it doesn’t matter what he said but it was unsavoury, and I defended your honour!”_

_“My knight in shinning armour!”_

_“I may have beat him up a bit.”_ He let the images of him slamming Valdo Marx into the table swim across to Geralt.

_“Jas… you don’t have to do that for me.”_

_“Someone has to Geralt, you know I would do anything for you. I love you.”_

_“Love you too now get some sleep and win that contest and show Valdo Marx what you are made of!”_

_“Sir, yes sir! I’ll win it for you my love.”_

_“Go to sleep Jas!”_

_“Goodnight Geralt.”_

_“Goodnight Jaskier.”_

*****

The morning comes far too quickly for Jaskier’s liking, he wishes to dive under the covers and keep away from arseholes like Valdo Marx. There is a big possibility that he is a perfectly nice man without the influence of alcohol in his system but frankly Jaskier couldn’t care less it was too late for that.

He felt through the bond that Geralt had slain the kikimora and was unharmed. That he would travel into Blaviken today to collect his coin, and be making his way to Jaskier in Roggeveen, the day after. Tension he didn’t know he was carrying eased off his shoulders.

There were three rounds to the competition, in the first round they had to sing a classic ballad, a rendition so they were all at a level playing field. To wean out the weaker singers, Jaskier could only hope that Valdo would leave in this round. The next two rounds, the songs had to be composed by the singer themselves.

There was some good competition in the crowd. Some of the bards where older more well seasoned in courts and taverns up and down the continent and kept the rendition very classic but their expertise only made the song sound refined, it didn’t add to the story of the song. Some of the bards were young and fresh faced and opted for adding their own flare to the song. It worked well for some but others it didn’t work very well. Priscilla’s version she twisted the lyrics marginally to sing it from her point of view and was a fantastic rendition if Jaskier did say so himself. Marx’s version was simple enough, it wasn’t a complete failure… that was all the praise that Jaskier was willing to give it.

The song was Sweet Nelly My Heart Delights, a country song that been sung as men had ploughed their farms, dreaming of landing a woman above their station would typically allow. A song Jaskier had heard long before Geralt had been born. It didn’t need any fancy embellishments, it needed to be sung like the farmers in their fields had done so.

He was lucky being one of the last to sing he had the benefit of hearing the other renditions and getting to change his in a way those before him hadn’t. He has his lute across his chest, but he doesn’t play instead he merely taps his hand against the strong wood, tapping out the beat he wanted and tried to sing with more baritone and bass then he typically would normally do.

_**Sweet Nelly! My heart’s delight!  
Be loving, and do not slight  
The proffer I make, for modesty’s sake  
I honour your beauty bright.  
For love, I profess, I can do no less,  
Thou hast my favour won  
And since I see your modesty,  
I pray agree, and fancy me,  
Though I’m but a farmer’s son. ** _

_**No! I am a lady gay,  
‘Tis very well known I may  
Have men of renown, in country or town;  
So! Roger, without delay,  
Court Bridget or Sue, Kate, Nancy, or Prue,  
Their loves will son be won;  
But don’t you dare to speak me fair,  
As if I were at my last prayer,  
To marry a farmer’s son. ** _

_**My father as riches’ store,  
Two hundred a year, and more;  
Beside sheep and cows, carts, harrows, and ploughs;  
His age is bode threescore.  
And when he does die, then merrily I  
Shall have what he has won;  
Both land and kine, all shall be thine,  
If thou’lt incline, and wilt be mine,  
And marry a farmer’s son. ** _

_**A fig for you cattle and corn!  
Your proffered love I scorn!  
‘Tis known very well, my name is Nell,  
And you’re but a bumpkin born.  
Well! Since it is so, away I will go, ** _

_**And I hope no harm is done;  
Farewell, adieu! – I hope to woo  
As good as you, - and win her, too,  
Though I’m but a farmer’s son.** _

_**Be not in such haste, quoth she,  
Perhaps we may still agree;  
For, man, I protest I was but in jest!  
Come, prythee sit down by me;  
For thou art the man that verily can  
Win me, if e’er I’m won;  
Both straight and tall, genteel withal;  
Therefore, I shall be at your call,  
To marry a farmer’s son. ** _

_**Dear lady! Believe me now  
I solemnly swear and vow,  
No lords in their lives take pleasure in wives,  
Like fellows that drive the plough;  
For whatever they gain with labour and pain,  
They don’t with ‘t to harlots run,  
As courtiers do. I never knew  
A Cintran beau that could outdo  
A country farmer’s son. ** _

He was delighted to make it through to the second round. There were only ten of them left now, Priscilla and unfortunately Valdo had made it to the second round, how he wasn’t sure. Tomorrow would mark the second and third round. There had been too many contestants to get more than one round today. He sat far away from Valdo Marx at the feast ignoring the glares he was receiving, but secretly delighting in the way the bruise blossomed under the cakey layer of makeup that was wearing off from his skin.  
  


*******

The next morning he couldn’t help the tightness coiling in his stomach. Partly for the rest of the singing competition and thinking of Geralt. He tried to shrug it off because he knew Geralt would tell him he is being silly, he always got like this when they travelled separately and he worried unnecessarily because his Witcher would come back to him hale and healthy save maybe a new scar.

Priscilla saves him a seat at breakfast waving him over and they discuss poetry and Jaskier corrects some of her monster lore and he knows that if Geralt could hear him right now he would be proud of him. He hated when Jaskier took too much artistic license, especially with his beloved monster facts.

He braids her blonde hair for the competition and she paints his lips in a dark rouge. She passes him the little pot of rouge saying for him to keep it, that maybe his Witcher would enjoy seeing it on him. He tucks it away, a blush on his face.

They go back into the main hall for the second round of the competition, and they have managed to redecorate the room, flowers are everywhere and it makes him think of the Belleteyn festival with Geralt. As he was last yesterday he is called on first this time, instead of standing like he did yesterday he sits on a stool wanting to create a more intimate atmosphere for his audience. He strokes the buttercups on his lute, a smile on his face for a brilliant man with white hair and golden eyes, before starting his tune. The tempo starts off slow. 

**_It’s what my heart just yearns to say  
_ _In ways that can’t be said  
_ _It’s what my rotting bones will sing  
_ _When the rest of me is dead_ **

_**It’s what’s engraved** **upon my heart  
**_ **_In letters deeply worn  
_ _Today I somehow understand the reason I was born_ **

**_'Cause outwardly, he says I try so hard to make you laugh at me,  
_ ** _**And he, he does,**  
_ _**he laughs as though he´s not heard the joke ten thousand times before** _ _**  
And he adores him, he watches him get dressed as though he’s hurtling through time  
Oh, darling please be mine,  
  
He promises to fight them all when it all becomes too much  
And he, he curses at the world for leaving him behind and he’s falling out of touch  
And he is stronger than he’s ever been, he knows  
And he brushes his hand through his hair, he’s got so much fucking hair  
And he holds him close just to keep the world at bay  
And when they’re sure no-one can hear them  
He’ll turn to him and say, he’ll turn to him and say**  
  
 **It’s not fair, it’s not fair how much I love you  
It’s not fair,  
** _ _**'cause you make me laugh when I’m actually**  
_ _**really fucking cross at you for something,** _ **_  
And he’ll say  
Oh how, oh how unreasonable  
How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do  
I spend my days so close to you 'cause if I’m  
_ _standing here, maybe everyone will think I’m alright,_ ** _**  
  
I’ve seen enough, he says, I know exactly what I want  
And it’s this life that we’ve created  
Inundated with the fated thought of you  
And if you asked me to, if you asked me I would lose it all**  
 **Like petals in a storm,'Cause darling I was born** _

**_To press my head between your  
_ _shoulder blades_ _at night when light is fading  
_ ** _**Just to let you know I’m old, waylaid and feels like I am wading into  
carpet burns and carousels oh Gods, you’ll be the death of me,  
And calm throughout his melodrama, he will turn and say  
Dear heart, it’s me, it’s me  
You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not  
'Cause it’s not like I’ve never heard you fart and snore**  
 **And for some godforsaken reason  
I’m still here, love, like I’ve always been before,  
And he’ll say** _

_**It’s not fair, it’s not fair how much I love you  
** _ _**It’s not fair cause you make me weep when I’m  
Just trying to watch the sun break with my ale  
And he’ll say**  
 **How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do  
I’ll spend my days so close to you cause if I’m  
Standing next to you then maybe everyone will think I’m cool**_

 **_How unfair, how unfair they’ll sing as  
They dance across the darling rooftop wreck  
_ _He’ll trip and he’ll pretend not to have seen,  
_ _Burying his head into his chest and  
_ _Clinging to the moment, where have you been?  
_ _He’ll whisper I’ve waited oh so long for you to come  
_ ** _**And as stars above them hum and hear them**  
_ **_He’ll turn to him and say that’s what he said  
  
It’s not fair, It's not fair how much I love you  
_ _It’s not fair 'cause you make me ache, you bastard,_ _  
And they’ll say  
Oh how, oh how unreasonable  
How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do  
I’ll spend my days so close to you 'cause if I’m stood here  
Then I’m stood here  
And I’ll stand here  
I’ll stand here with you_ **

A big round of applause has him standing and bowing. He goes off to the side and takes the goblet of wine offered to him, downing it quickly. He enjoys listening to the others sing their ballads… well that is all except for Valdo Marx and he goes off tune twice!

The judges deliberate and eventually they come back and say who the five finalists are. Priscilla and himself make it to the next round, and somehow so does Valdo Marx.

There is an intermission for lunch, and he goes off to his room, his mind too highly strung to eat. When he feels it, a deep pain spreading in his chest, he can feel sadness coming from Geralt, in waves. _“Geralt?”_ He whispers panicked, _“Geralt, can you hear me?”_

He doesn’t get an answer per say but the sadness dissipates. He wants to go and see to him but Geralt was usually very insistent on Jaskier only coming to him if summoned.

Reluctantly he goes down after lunch for the last round, he is again last this time. He sits there fidgeting with the hem of his doublet trying to get a response from Geralt.

“And now for the last performance, Jaskier!” the judge says, and he would of missed their summoning if it hadn’t been for Priscilla elbowing him in the ribs telling him to go up and break a leg.

There is a round of applause and Jaskier goes up and sits on the stool again. The ache in his heart returns as he begins strumming he tries to send out all his love across to Geralt. He begins to sing.

_**“We wandered lost beneath the lights  
I felt small under the galaxies  
It was one of those familiar nights  
I felt big with you next to me  
Oh my oh my I think that I am falling  
Cause you are gold  
You are all I see  
You are aurum scarce and meant for kings  
You are gold”** _

His mind drifts to beautiful golden eyes at the instrumental part, the ache that started when he came on drifts away and he slowly begins up again.

 _  
__**“And there's something I need to say  
But I feel too afraid  
Cause when it's real there's a risk  
A chance that I'm nervous to take  
Oh my Oh my I think that I have fallen  
Cause you are gold  
You are all I see  
You are aurum scarce and meant for kings  
You are gold** _

_**You are gold** _

Another instrumental piece starts and Jaskier is struggling to keep his emotions in check, tears blurring his vision. He doesn’t like being kept in the dark and he doesn’t like how he can’t get a response from Geralt. The only comfort being that he can feel his life isn’t in danger.

_  
**Cause you are gold  
You are all I see  
You are aurum scarce and meant for kings  
And I will wait  
If it's time you need  
What I see in you I hope you find in me  
Cause you are gold  
Gold  
You are gold  
Gold** _

_**Cause you are gold  
You are all I see  
You are aurum scarce and meant for kings  
You are gold** _

The applause starts up again and the judge says the winner will be announced at the feast this evening. Jaskier goes to his room, wine in hand he’s not even sure how or who gave him the wine glass. _“Geralt?”_

_“Its ok Jaskier,”_

_“What’s going on? Are you ok?”_

_“I will tell you when I get to Roggeveen!”_

The mental shield goes up and Jaskier can’t talk to Geralt anymore, respects his boundaries not to push through the shield, no matter how tempted he is. He barely pays attention that night at the feast and lets muscle memory do most of the work. He didn’t even enjoy the victory of winning. He took the coin immediately back to his room, not trusting the others. After when he goes back down he doesn’t stay long, he stays close to Priscilla but she can sense he isn’t quite right. He feigns tiredness and the fact he has a long journey ahead of him tomorrow and needs to rest.

He gets up at the crack of dawn and packs everything away. Creeping out of the lordly house. He begins his trek back towards Blaviken, hoping to meet Geralt on his way to Jaskier. He can’t just sit and wait for his Witcher to come to him.

As the morning draws on he passes few travellers on his way. One such couple who are walking slowly, gossiping as the portly man carries two buckets full of water. “Did you hear what happened in Blaviken?” the wife asked, Jaskier’s head snapped up listening more closely to their conversation. The husband shakes his head. “They say a Witcher went mad, on the streets butchered up people for no reason.”

His stomach drops and he feels sick; not his Geralt… he wouldn’t get involved in the men’s affairs and he knows without a doubt he wouldn’t react like that without a reason. He ignore the mental shields, he has too… he needs to know that Geralt is ok. He pushes as much love as he physically can through their bond, Geralt needs to know that he loves and supports him. He knows how lowly the Witcher thinks of himself. _“Geralt, can you hear me handsome?”_

Because Geralt hadn’t realised he hadn’t shielded his emotions and Jaskier was hit full force with pain, sadness and guilt. _“Geralt?”_ he reaches out again more panicked. 

_“…Jaskier…”_ Geralt’s voice wavered in his mind, sounding broken and lost.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs in this chapter in order are:  
> Sweet Nelly My Hearts Delight, I don’t know who sang it I literally typed into google old English folk song (cause aesthetic)  
> Fair by The Amazing Devil because how could I not although I had to change a couple of lyrics because they definitely did not have the tv show the office on the continent I don’t know if the lyric change worked perfectly but it was the only option I came up with that sounded least awkward  
> You Are Gold by The National Parks this is such a good song 10/10 would recommend 
> 
> Obviously I own none of these songs.  
> Thank you for reading! I hope you like x


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt crumbled in his touch, his body shaking a little. “I didn’t mean…” he whispered, “I didn’t… I wanted to help her.” 
> 
> “I know darling, I know!” he whispered softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Off this week and next week so was able to do the second part of the Blaviken episode. Already working on chapter 9 so hopefully that will be up by the end of next week :D now I do want to mention there is a sex scene it starts where it says Geralt turned so he now straddled and ends with basically at the end of the chapter for those who don’t want to read it. I don’t write a lot of sex scenes in general so be gentle please with me :)  
> Italics are when they are communicating through their minds.

* * *

  
He gets up at the crack of dawn and packs everything away. Creeping out of the lordly house. He begins his trek out of Roggeveen. As the morning gets on he passes travellers on his way. When he overhears a couple talking, “Did you hear what happened in Blaviken?” the wife asked, Jaskier’s head snapped up listening more closely to their conversation. The husband shakes his head. “They say a Witcher went mad, on the streets butchered up people for no reason.”

His stomach dropped; he ignored the mental shields. That Geralt put up broadcasting his thoughts to his love. _“Geralt, can you hear me handsome?”_

Because Geralt hadn’t realised he hadn’t shielded his emotions and Jaskier was hit full force with pain, sadness and guilt. _“Geralt?”_ he reached out again.

 _“…Jaskier…”_ Geralt’s voice wavered in his mind, sounding broken.

He doesn’t think he evaporates into a puff of black cloud, ignoring the couples shrieks and rushes through the air towards where he can feel Geralt.

Who is walking rather despondently with Roach by his side, he is covered in blood. Mostly it’s not his own, at least. But he can see cuts and bruises on his upper body. He can see a slice on his hand and smell blood on his trousers.

When he materialises in front of Geralt, his heart breaks as the strong Witcher looks at him. “Geralt?” He whispers, “Let’s set up camp, ok?”

 _“No!”_ Geralt almost shouts in his mind, _“Not here, need to get further away.”_

He wants desperately to touch, to comfort his Witcher but knows that he needs to get Geralt away somewhere more comfortable. “Ok, darling.” He murmurs

He puts his possessions on Roach, she doesn’t seem to have any injuries at least. He notices the way that Geralt grips the reins, how his knuckles turned white in the grip. Or how Roach lets her head droop a little towards the Witchers shoulder, comforting him when Jaskier can’t.

They walk for ages in silence, for miles keeping to the quiet roads where no one travels. Geralt keeps his hood up. And Jaskier knows this isn’t about him, but he is scared, he’s never seen Geralt look so empty.

It’s dark when they set up camp, Jaskier lowers his darling to the ground, setting Roach’s saddle so he can lean against it. And begins setting up their camp. He ties Roach to a tree, letting her much happily on the grass below her.

He sets up a fire and pitches their tent, laying out their bedrolls inside. He was thankful now more than ever that they had the tents. Azrael had made them all new tents last winter. For the past two seasons they had slept under the stars, which hadn’t bothered them much. But he was thankful for the privacy today. And Geralt is still sat in front of the small fire looking blankly through the fire. His fiery eyes had never looked so dim. “Geralt?” he whispered crouching down in front of the man brushing some of the white hair out of his eyes. “I set up the tent, do you want to go inside?” 

He looks up nodding slightly and lets Jaskier guide him into the tent. He keeps the flap of the tent open so that they can keep an eye on Roach, he suspects that they wont sleep much tonight. “Can you tell me what happened, love?” Jaskier asks

 _“Don’t make me say it, please!”_ Geralt tells him, _“Just look I don’t want to see it.”_

Jaskier smooths his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I wont make you say it, Geralt I promise.”

Silver eyes glow as gold ones close. And Jaskier is pulled into Geralt’s mind, he makes sure that Geralt doesn’t see it all again, he doesn’t want to cause him anymore harm. He see his Witcher go into Blaviken to collect the money from the contract, how everyone in the tavern was mean to him wanting him to eat out but a woman Renfri, he can sense a lot of grief around her, was kind to him.

He doesn’t get everything in the same clarity he would if he had made Geralt see the memories to, these flashes are the closest he can get to the whole picture. But he wouldn’t hurt Geralt any further. 

How a young girl named Marilka, came and took him to the mage, Stregobor. How the prick wanted him to kill the girl Renfri, all because she was born under the black sun. Just like Eskel’s Deidre, and look how well that had gone.

And how Geralt had given the girl an ultimatum, how he promised to look after her. That she could he a different life. That she told him all she was made for was killing, he offered her to come with them to Kaer Morhen, how she could use what she was made for, for something else. Jaskier could see how Geralt saw Eskel’s child surprise in her wanted to keep her safe.

Two sides wanting Geralt to be their hired muscle, to have him kill their enemy. He then saw how Renfri’s men stood in the streets ready to start killing people to try and get the mage to come to them. How torn Geralt had felt in that moment, trying to convince them that the mage wouldn’t come and these people didn’t deserve to die. Leading to the fight in the streets how Geralt had no choice. His love was graceful, as he charged through the streets and stopped Renfri’s men, despite himself he was mesmerised by how Geralt moved. Then she came, ruthless and cold she used Marilka against Geralt.

It ended with her dying in Geralt’s ams, Stregobor wanting to take her away to experiment on. When Geralt threatened to kill him if he touched her. He turned the whole town against him, naming him the **butcher of Blaviken.** A name that Jaskier knew wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon, one that would plague Geralt forever.

The memory ended with Marilka telling him to get out of Blaviken, the villagers throwing rocks at him. “Jas.” Geralt whispered pulling Jaskier out of his memories. 

Geralt burrowed into Jaskier’s arms, his head resting into Jaskier’s chest. Lute strong fingers slotted into the hair at the base of his neck, stroking the skin there, making Geralt feel safe.

Jaskier wanted nothing more than to offer comfort, trying to keep him safe. “It’s ok my love, I am here.” He whispered into the white hair, pressing tender kisses into the locks.

Geralt crumbled in his touch, his body shaking a little. “I didn’t mean…” he whispered, “I didn’t… I wanted to help her.” 

“I know darling, I know!” he whispered softly.

*****

They stayed like that all night, they were pretty much in Jaskier’s bedroll, even if neither of them could sleep. Jaskier laid over Geralt like he did when he was in his animal form, hoping it would ease his mind. Geralt held tightly to Jaskier’s doublet like he was afraid to let go, Jaskier ran soft fingers through his hair hoping it was enough to let the man know he was with him forever.

Geralt’s uneasiness had been present most of the night, only really diminishing in the early hours of the morning.

The bright morning sky filtered into their tent, even if neither of them felt particularly relaxed. “Why don’t we take a break? Go to Kaer Morhen until after winter? We can stay longer if you wish.” Jaskier whispered

“We need the coin Jaskier,” Geralt mumbled

Even if that was the truth, Jaskier didn’t think it was a good idea. Given that he heard that couple talking about it, no they would be best to disappear for a while. Lie low, for Geralt’s sake. “No, we don’t, I won the contest. And we have enough to last us the trip up and when we leave next season. Besides even if we didn’t, coin be damned I’d rather you ok, Geralt!” he confessed

Geralt looked up, his eyes looked a little shaken. “You won?” he asked

“Always with the tone of surprise!” Jaskier said smirking

Geralt nudged him as if saying, shut up. _“Knew you would, Jaskier.”_

They repositioned themselves, so Geralt was laying against his side, head on Jaskier’s chest. His eyes closed as Jaskier continued to play with his hair, twirling the white strands in his fingers. “Do you want to go home?” Jaskier asked him.

“Not home,” Geralt murmured

Jaskier supposed it couldn’t be not with the first two decades of Geralt’s life having been cruel and hard. And then only spending the winter months there every year after. “Where is home then?” Jaskier asked

Surely it couldn’t be Rivia the Witcher only took the name to sound less threatening to the masses. Sure, he might have adopted a Rivian accent, but they had only ventured to his namesake, twice! Geralt shook his head against his chest. “Home is with you!” he admitted so casually.

He could feel the blush spreading through his cheeks. His confession making Jaskier’s heart skip a beat. “It is?” he whispered

“Hm.”

He moved closer to Jaskier, _“I don’t say it enough!”_

“I can feel it though!” Jaskier told him

“I should say it more, you shouldn’t have to do all the heavy lifting!” Geralt said

“You’re definitely the one that does the heavy lifting in this relationship.” Jaskier laughed

“True, but you make me stronger.”

“I do? Go on my darling Witcher tell me more!”

Geralt turned so he now straddled Jaskier, leaning forward close to the bard’s ear. “I love you Jaskier,” He confessed, “You’re my other half. I’m lucky to have you.”

“We have each other!” Jaskier pointed out

Jaskier twisted them so Geralt was now under him, he tugged on Geralt’s shirt pulling him a little closer so he could pull him in for a kiss. His hands working into Geralt’s hair he adored his hair so much. Geralt’s hands caressing down Jaskier’s back.

Through their bond Jaskier could feel Geralt’s love pouring through and it was overwhelming, simply intoxicating. How anyone could doubt a Witcher had emotions was beyond him. In fact, he would say that Geralt felt more deeply than any human he was simply better at masking it than they were.

Jaskier rolled his hips against Geralt enjoying the Witchers arousal urgently pressing against his thigh. Jaskier’s hand delved in between them undoing the laces of Geralt’s trousers. “I love you so much, Geralt.” He whispered into the mans skin.

“Hmm.” Geralt sucked little kisses into his neck, leaving small red marks. _“I love you too.”_

Jaskier loved every sound that Geralt made when they fucked. He wasn’t like Jaskier, who could scream down forests and villages. Which he knew drove Geralt crazy. But the soft little sounds that Geralt would make as he came undone where the stuff songs where made about. His eyebrows would furrow together as little gasps and moans were pulled out of him and when he got closer to his desire he would start to pant Jaskier’s name like a prayer and it would drive the bard wild.

Jaskier slid down Geralt’s body pushing his legs apart so he could nestle in between. Bracketed by thick muscle. His mouth enveloping Geralt’s cock, sucking him off. “Hmm.”

His tongue swirling around Geralt’s length. Licking up every drop of pre come as it beaded from the tip. Geralt’s hands found purchase in Jaskier’s hair. Lightly thrusting into the bards mouth. Little gasps escaping Geralt when he let his teeth lightly skim over his head. He repeated his ministrations until Geralt came with a shuddering moan in his mouth.

Geralt manoeuvred them until Jaskier stood in front of Geralt, who was on his knees. He undid the laces of Jaskier’s trousers, his gold eyes fixed on Jaskier’s silver ones. He pulled the trousers down, Jaskier lifted Geralt’s hand in his bringing his fingers to his mouth sucking them lightly into his mouth, he wished they hadn’t run out of oil. “Hmm.”

When he finally released Geralt’s hand he leaned down to capture a kiss off his Witcher. “Please,” he whispered into his lips

A smirk on his lips, “Please what Jaskier?”

His thumb brushing over Jaskier’s rim, the familiar moaned at the contact. “Please fuck me!” he begged loudly

He pulled Jaskier down, so he now kneeled over Geralt’s lap. Geralt let his finger tease him slowly before finally sinking into Jaskier’s warmth. He pushed in slowly giving Jaskier time to adjust. The pain ending almost immediately being replaced by the pleasure of being stretched so beautifully by his Witcher. But Jaskier ever impatient began grinding up and down on the digit. Losing himself to the pleasure, moaning with each movement. _“I love watching you like this.”_

“I need more please,” he gasped

When Geralt added another finger, Jaskier gripped Geralt’s shoulder for better purchase as he fucked himself on Geralt’s fingers. Geralt’s fingers brushed that little bundle of nerves inside Jaskier that had him seeing stars. Geralt’s name becoming a chant on Jaskier’s lips. His eyes squeezed shut as he rocked more. “Geralt?” he moaned

“Hmm?”

“I **need** you.” He begged

Geralt couldn’t refuse his bard anything, especially in this state. Begging so sweetly for him. When he removed his fingers, Jaskier couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped his lips, almost immediately disappearing when he felt the blunt head of Geralt’s cock push into him. Geralt liked to go slow, the smug bastard liked watching Jaskier lose himself to the pleasure.

But Jaskier wasn’t having any of it, not today. He sank down the rest of the way spearing himself on Geralt’s cock and crying out in pleasure as he did so. Geralt gasping at the same time.

He held Jaskier’s hips to control the pace of each thrust. Making sure every thrust hit the right spot and had Jaskier screaming his name. Jaskier’s head dropped into Geralt’s shoulder as he lost himself to the pleasure. “I love you Geralt,” he whispered

 _“I love you too!”_

“Fuck you are beautiful like this Jaskier!” He said into Jaskier’s ear.

“Only for you!” Jaskier panted as he bobbed up and down.

“Are you mine?” Geralt asked as he slammed into Jaskier, repeatedly.

Jaskier’s lip wobbled as pleasure ran through him, he could tell Geralt could feel it coming off him too. “Are. You. Mine?” Geralt growled punctuating each word with a sharp thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes” he whimpered chanting the only word he could get out of his lips.

He nodded into Geralt’s shoulder with his confession. Geralt’s hands found his cheeks, spreading his cheeks apart so he could penetrate deeper. “Say it properly!” Geralt demanded a smirk on his face.

“I’m… yours. All yours Geralt. Only yours!” he whimpered

“Mine,” Geralt whispered into his ear.

Jaskier cum painting their stomachs, Geralt continued thrusting Jaskier through his orgasm. His body shaking through it. Geralt finding his second release a few moments after. Jaskier sagged into the Witchers arms all his energy sapped from his body. He clutched at Geralt’s shirt as shaky gaps still tore from his lips. His body quivering against Geralt who was holding him close, rubbing his back softly.

Geralt cleaned them both and they laid down on the bedroll, Jaskier now resting in Geralt’s arms. Totally spent and exhausted. “I think I would like to go to Kaer Morhen early.” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s hair.

“Mmm, that will be nice.” Jaskier said sighing, “I always loved a good fuck in the springs.”

Geralt chuckled at Jaskier’s words and they both fell asleep, despite it being so light outside.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to write it that Geralt wanted to help Renfri in a way that would be reminiscent of him and Ciri. I still wanted her to have an impact on him like she did in the show but that’s Jaskier’s man you know :D I am not going to do a lot of sex scenes I will definitely heavily imply or whatever a fair bit but I don’t feel the urge to write it a lot just where I feel it’s necessary. Don’t want it to feel repetitive. Anyway thank you for reading hope you enjoy xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I only know how to kill.” She mutters 
> 
> “And so do I… you could come to Kaer Morhen… train. Learn to hunt things that seek to destroy… become something different… better. You choose princess.” 
> 
> He takes Roach’s reins and walks off into the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaviken episode from Geralt’s POV. This wasn’t the chapter I intended to write but it’s the chapter you have got. And the italics is the boys talking telepathically.

* * *

Geralt walked over to Roach dragging the Kikimora behind him, the hunt had been fairly smooth. His breakfast had been venison, the deer had been caught in the crossfire of him and the monster. It was in all aspects a good morning, even if Jaskier wasn’t here.

He knew that his bard would do well with the competition and would probably annoy him with all the bragging he would inevitable be doing. When he won. “Sorry Roach,” she huffed in annoyance when he put the beast on her back.

They walked for half an hour towards the town of Blaviken. Geralt kept his hood up on his cloak, he knew that the people in Blaviken were not the most accommodating to his kind. They tended to look at them with complete and utter contempt. He had been to Blaviken once before with Jaskier and they had been happy to escape as soon as the contract had finished. A succubus had been praying on taverns, the towns people hadn’t been as pleased when Geralt killed it.

Today the rain at least helped mask the smell of the slowly decaying corpse on his horses back. He tied Roach up outside the local tavern so he could ask where the alderman was. He didn’t want to stay too long, he hoped to be out by the afternoon, only to give Roach a break. And then be on his way to Jaskier, he may even get there before the bard had finished the competition… if he didn’t take long breaks.

The tavern was loud and a large light hanging in the middle of the room. His senses where still all out of whack since taking his potions to slay the Kikimora. Jaskier was the best at getting rid of the headaches. He kept his hood up and his face down perhaps they wouldn’t recognise who he was. But of course the more he stepped inside the quieter it became. He wasn’t so lucky. He walked over to the barmaid. “What will it be?” She asked barely looking up from the mug she was drying off.

“Point me to the alderman’s house.” He said gruffly

“It’s down the alley to the left…” she started

“Isadora.” The barkeep barked shooing her off.

He was a rounded man with ginger hair and a scruffy beard. A greasy apron tied around his middle. He stared her down until she sulked off, “We don’t want your kind here, Witcher.”

If Jaskier was here, Geralt wouldn’t have to talk he could have stayed outside with Roach. It’s not that he begrudged the familiar for having hobbies outside of him. He never wanted him to feel trapped, but was just in these moments he realised how much he heavily relied on him. How lucky he was. Which his brothers liked to remind him of a lot. “The alderman.” Geralt mumbled, “Tell me where the alderman is and I’ll be on my way.” He muttered

“You don’t give the orders around here...” A man and a group of his friends gathered behind Geralt, of course they always felt braver when the wolf had his back turned. The man’s hand rested on his sword.

“Go.” The barman said, “On your own or at the end of a rope, your choice.”

“Not a hard choice.” He almost laughed, that they thought a piece of rope would be enough to hurt him… still he wouldn’t risk it. 

“Yeah, fuck that. Kill him with your bare hands if you have to.” The man shouted, “C’mon, Witcher. You’re not scared of us, are ya?”

“Show us what you’ve got.”

He heard a stool scrape against the wood in protest, “Can you not leave it alone for a moment?” A woman’s voice said, her voice stern and fierce.

“Witchers can’t be trusted.” The barman told her.

“I’m not speaking to you.” She barked

If the situation wasn’t so tenuous Geralt would have laughed, but even he could tell how everyone was on the edge of a fight. He had been told on many occasions that he wasn’t the best judge of social situations, he always left being social to his social butterfly of a bard.

“I apologise for my man’s interference in your day. Hopefully he can improve his behaviour by tomorrow’s market. ” The woman said glaring at the man, an edge in her voice. 

“Sorry, Renfri.” He muttered, “Come on lads.”

The men walked away, Geralt keeping his eyes on them for a second to make sure they didn’t have a change of heart. He turned to the woman, Renfri. She had short wavy brown hair that sat just above her shoulders, hazel eyes staring back at him. He could see she was warrior, her build was small but lean. He could see the dagger that laid concealed at her belt. “Beer for my friend here and one for me. I am speaking to you now, good sir.” The barman glared at both of them for a long time, before going to get mugs.

Geralt lowers his hood, one drink ask her where the alderman is and hopefully get to see Jaskier’s performance. “Want some breakfast?” She asked 

“I’m full.” He muttered, “Venison.”

They sit in companionable silence, they take the first swig together. Except when Geralt stops she continues downing the pint in one go. He has to admit he is impressed, not many humans he knows… not that he knows many can handle their liquor well. He must of looked a little shocked because she looks at him sheepishly wiping her mouth a little. “My mother, god rest her, would be mortified.”

“Our secret, then.” He whispers

“So, what brings you to Blaviken, white hair? You came for a monster.”

“I was travelling by the swamp.” He tells her, and he isn’t certain why he tells her. Maybe because usually unless he was killing their monsters they never gave him the time of day.

“That would be your mistake, then. Why wouldn’t you travel by the main road?” She says smirking at him.

“It’s hard to make a living on the main roads.” He points out

“And you desperately need money for new clothes.” Jaskier would agree with her, but apart from his armour needing a little repair they weren’t too worn. “Two more beers.”

The barman slams the beer pitcher in front of her, it’s clear he doesn’t want to serve the Witcher and Geralt will have to leave soon to avoid anyone acting on their instincts. He would hate for Jaskier to come and avenge him. She moves closer to him and pours a drink for him a sad look on her face, “More and more I find monsters wherever I go”

He was about to ask her for more detail when a young girl with her hair braided and pinned to the side of her head leans on the table looking up at Geralt. “How much coin for your Kikimora, then?”

He looks at Renfri once more before following the girl out of the tavern, he can almost smell the crowds relief that he is leaving. “I killed a rat this morning with my breakfast fork. Stabbed it in its fat little gut. My mother nearly fainted, but what was I supposed to do? It had been shitting in our pantry for days. ”

“You mentioned coin.” He interrupts her.

“Yes.” The girl says cheerfully, she walks over to where Roach is, to where the Kikimora is still on her back, he would have to clean her once this was all finished. “Isadora said you were looking for my father. She’s a gossip, you see. Probably went two steps into the Lord’s inn before she was running off telling everyone an evil Witcher had arrived. You don’t scare me.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, she talks almost as much as Jaskier.

She lifts up the cover to look at the creature. “And I can also tell you that my father will have no use for this beast.”

“Your father, the alderman? He posted a flyer.” He tells her.

“For a graveir, Kikimoras are useful. Population control.” He really hates humans sometimes.

“Hm.”

“You should speak to Master Irion, our wizard. He’s willing to pay for odds and ends he needs for elixirs. I sold him our dog when it died. Mysteriously.” The look she gives him tells him it wasn’t mysteriously.

“Fine. Take me to him.” He orders.

He unties Roach’s reins, “I got 15 crowns for the yappy mutt. That’s enough to buy some new clothes. Just saying.”

“Hm. Come on Roach.” He leads her through the streets of Blaviken, everyone keeping their distance from them. Which he is thankful for, this Roach bites more then her predecessor and he didn’t want to risk her getting hurt, she was still young and had lots to learn.

“Have you ever killed a succubus? A striga?” She asks, “A werewolf? She-wolf?” 

“That’s not a thing.”

“So you’ve killed the rest?” She says excitedly, “I think that makes you a hero. My mother says you’re the offspring of foul sorcery, a diabolic creation, a filthy degenerate born of hell. Have you ever been to hell? I’ve never even left Blaviken. Because my mothers never left Blaviken and if it’s good enough for Libushe then it’s good enough for Marilka. That’s my name, Marilka. Like milk. What’s your name? ”

She could of given him a headache if he wasn’t used to Jaskier’s ramblings. “Geralt.”

“Like garrotter? Nice. Where are you from, Geralt?”

“Rivia.”

“I don’t know where that is, but I could learn, if you’d let me.” She asks sweetly

“No.” He says too quickly, he was glad that no more children would have to go through what him and his brothers went through.

“Because I’m a girl and girls can’t be Witchers. Which I think is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He can’t help the smirk on his face, Jaskier would like this girl.

“Hm.”

“I want more. I have to be more, because I don’t know what to do in Blaviken for the rest of my life, except go to the boring old market.”

“And kill rats?” He questions

“And dogs.”

They make it outside Master Irion’s house, it looks old and decrepit from the outside. The windows look mouldy and the brick looks to be crumbling in places. But Geralt can smell the magic that clings to the building like a disease, his medallion is thrumming wildly against his chest. “Here we are.” Marilka exclaims

“Hold Roach.” He tells her handing her the reins, Roach leans over to snap at the girl but he pulls on the reins so the mare stares at his eyes, “Be nice.” He growls.

The horse snuffs at him but doesn’t go for the girl again so he takes it as a good sign. “Hey, Roach.” Marilka coos, the girl is smart enough at least not to go touching the horse aside from holding the reins.

He walks over to the door reaching out for the knocker but his hand ripples against the shield that covers the door. He can feel his medallion vibrating but he isn’t sensing anything particularly peculiar considering it’s a mages’ house. He looks back at the girl and Roach before walking through the shield.

******  
  


When Geralt gets inside, everything is so bright and new looking, he can see the ripples of magic around the edges. It looks very fake, like something out of one of Jaskier’s ballads. There is a small courtyard in front of him with apple trees and a fountain and naked women tending to it. “Greetings. I’m Stregobor. Master Stregobor. Sorcerer.” An old man says walking up to him, a staff in his hand.

“I have a Kikimora for Master Irion.” He declares, he really wants to leave. The quicker he gets this sorted the better.

“Yes, well, forgive the confusion. Irion created this tower but he’s been dead 200 years. So, in order to honour him, I’ve taken his name as my… personal sobriquet.”And just like that Geralt can tell that this mage is a prick. That he believes himself to be better than everyone else.

“Hm. He create this illusion too?” He asks

“No, this is, uh… this is… my own creation. Helps to pass time more delightfully.” Yes, this confirms his theory, an utter prick.

“Because you’re in hiding, Stregobor.”

“How very clever of you… Witcher.” The mage, like all others sounds patronising, they are to most Witchers… well except Eskel he possesses more magic than the others and mages are drawn to him like bees to honey, it annoyed Klara to no end. “Not often do we see your likeness here in Blaviken.”

“Not many of my likeness left.” He points out, as they walk away from the courtyard.

He looks at the women working, and he can’t see any signs they are mistreated or unhappy. “Hm. I’d offer you my condolences, but I seem to remember that Witchers don’t feel... anything.” The mage says condescendingly, “I’m grateful destiny brought you to me.”

“Marilka brought me to you.”

“Oh, Marilka. Marilka works for me. Now and then. On matters of great import.” The mage says, he gets a child to do all his work? Something didn’t seem right to him.

“A reclusive sorcerer who uses an alias and hires a young girl to procure him a Witcher. You don’t want my monster.You want me to kill yours.”

“Very clever. Indeed.” Prick.

“What kind?” He asks trying to ignore the condescending tone, he will have to tell Eskel or any of the others to avoid doing any work for him in the future, let the bastard suffer.

“The worst kind. The human kind. It’s name is Renfri.”

“Hm.”

“Destiny has many faces, Witcher. Mine, for example, is beautiful on the outside, but hideous on the inside. She has stretched her bloody talons towards me.” He was tempted to walk out, Kikimora be dammed, he still had a few hours before rot and decay settled in he could harvest alchemical ingredients from it, he wont earn as much but better than this.

“Wizards are all the same. You talk nonsense while making wise and meaningful faces… speak normally.”

“Have you ever hear of the… curse of the Black sun? First full eclipse in 1,200 years. It marked the imminent return of Lilit, demon goddess of the night sent t exterminate the human race. According to the wise mage Eltibald Lilit’s path was to be prepared by 60 women wearing gold crowns that would fill the river valleys with blood.” Jaskier would call this guy crazy, he would say he had a vibe.

This was the same Black sun Eskel’s child surprise, Deidre had been born under. That people’s fears ruined her life, scarred Eskel. Geralt couldn’t help the dread that immediately filled his stomach.

“Hm. Doesn’t rhyme.”He said leaning against the side of the fountain, “All good predictions rhyme.”

“I studied the girl born around the Black sun, and I found horrendous internal mutations among them. I tried to cure them locked them in towers for safekeeping, but the girls always died.”

Definitely insane, and very concerning. He wondered if this was the life that Deidre had endured, why she had been the way she was when Eskel found her. “Internal mutations?” He questioned

“They were autopsied of course, to confirm my suspicions.” Geralt glared at him. “But eliminating the women was the lesser evil. They could’ve drowned entire kingdoms in blood. If you’d been alive during Falka’s rebellion, seen what I saw—”

Everything about this mage was wrong, the way he spoke the look in his eyes. The naked women working for him. And how did he know that Geralt hadn’t been around then? Witchers who didn’t slow could live that long, his mind immediately going to Vesemir. It might have technically been 13 or so years before he was born but still he didn’t like that this mage presumed to know anything about him. “Innocent women are dead.” Geralt grumbled

The mage looked at him, and Geralt hoped that he got the hint that Geralt wouldn’t say his mind from this. When suddenly it hit Geralt. “But not Renfri, the beautiful one. She’s after you.”

“Daughter of King Fredefalk of Creyden. I delivered the princess myself in the middle of the afternoon in pitch black.” Stregobor said walking away.

“Under the Black sun, so… she’s cursed.”

The mage turned around, “Do you consider me a fool, Witcher?” Yes, I do and a small part of Geralt hoped that this mage read minds. He doubted as the mage didn’t seem to react, he also knew he definitely wasn’t getting paid for the Kikimora. “Do you think I did not conduct research? Renfri was acutely affected. Her step mother Aridea, told me she tortured a canary, strangled two puppies, even gouged out a maid’s eye with a comb.”

After his research? Geralt wouldn’t be surprised the princess was unhinged. And of course the step mother wouldn’t be kind to the daughter of the Kings former wife. “I admit what happened next was not ideal but with the lives of Aridea’s own children on the line, we had to act.” Yeah on line for the throne. “So I dispatched someone to follow Renfri into the woods. We found him in the brush, Renfri’s antique brooch jammed into his ear.”

Geralt really wasn’t surprised, the mage just admitted he sent someone in to kill her and was surprised when she defended herself? “After that, I organised a manhunt to find the princess, but… eh… she was gone.”

He walks off again and Geralt wonders when this will be over and he can fuck off. “Two years. Until she reappeared robbing and murdering merchants on the roads of Mahakam, impaled them on sticks at first, but soon, she picked up sword skills. And now no man can defy her, it’s said.” The glint in his eyes is implying that because Geralt obviously isn’t a man that he was the one to stop her.

“You’re not a man, you’re a magician.” Geralt points out

“She’s resistant to magic.” Stregobor says

“That’s impossible in humans.” Geralt states.

“Not… mutated ones. She’s chased me for years bent on revenge.”

Honestly? Geralt couldn’t blame her. “And now she has tracked me here, just as you arrived.” He’s going to mention destiny, Geralt’s can feel it. “ **Destiny**.” Bingo.

“Kill her.” He mutters, “I’ll pay you anything.”

“I kill monsters,” Geralt tells him.

“A Kikimora kills because its hungry. Renfri kills for pleasure.” Maybe she wouldn’t have if you hadn’t ruined her life? Jaskier would be having a field day with this guy, would probably be much ruder to his face… in fact maybe it was best that he wasn’t there. “She is a monster, she is the last of Lilit’s women. And she possesses the power to destroy us all.” He can sense the mage is getting angry, time to finish up here.

“I don’t believe anyone has that power.”

He stares at the old bastard for a few seconds before walking back towards the door. “With the fate of the Continent at stake, is that a chance you’re willing to take? There’s your rhyme.”

Geralt turns back to him, “Killing Renfri is… the lesser evil.”

“Evil is evil Stregobor. Lesser, greater, middling… it’s all the same. I’m not judging you.” He adds mages aren’t too be messed with they are sensitive beings with a bad bite. “I haven’t only done good in my life either. But now if I have to choose between one evil and another, than I prefer not to choose at all.”

He walks off leaving the mage to stew on his words.

*******  
  


Geralt is outside of Blaviken’s walls fairly quickly after that. He gets what he can from the Kikimora, which isn’t a lot the body had started to rot by the time he got outside. He managed to sell the parts at the apothecary for a few coins. He goes to a small embankment there is enough water there to get the grime off of Roach before he hits the road.

Someone has been following him since he left Blaviken’s walls and he can only assume its Renfri come to see what Stregobor spoke with him about. He’s not a fool, he keeps his sword on his back… just in case.

He hears twigs crack under someone’s feet, he knows this is done on purpose. For his benefit? Or to avoid a fight? He looks up to see Renfri walking up the waters side. Standing behind him as he continues to clean Roach. “The girl this morning, she took you to see Stregobor, didn’t she?”

He moves away from Roach, the mare nudging him, wanting him to continue to clean her. Jaskier has spoiled this Roach a little too much. “I know who you are, Renfri.”

“You know that I want to kill Stregobor, then. I used to be a princess. Did he tell you that?” She asks following him

As he goes and brushes off the blanket that sits under Roach’s saddle to avoid sores. “Until he sent a thug into the woods to kill me.”

“You killed him.” He said walking back towards her.

“With my mothers brooch.” She says proudly

He looks at her as he kneels down and uses some water to clean some of the grime off the blanket. She kneels down by his side, he can see her out of the corner of his eye. She looks younger, younger than she appeared. “Stregobor’s man raped me… robbed me and let me go.” She tells him and Geralt turns to look at her, this child her life ruined because of fear… like his.

“No more princess. I had to survive. I stole rather than starve. I killed rather than be killed. Nohorn and the others saved me. And they’ll be by my side at the market as I get my revenge. Lilit help me. I will take down anyone in my way.” Her gaze finds Geralt. “Unless… destiny intervenes.”

Fuck destiny, he was sick of all this. He stands up looking down at her, “You want me to kill Stregobor for you.”

He walks away, he should finish up with Roach and leave. Go to Roggeveen. “It’s the lesser evil.” She calls out.

“So I keep getting told.” He grumbles.

She follows him, “Stregobor asked you to kill me too. Cause I was a girl born during an eclipse? I could’ve become so many things. Queen Calanthe of Cintra, she just won her first battle at Hochebuz. But here I am trying to convince you I’m not…”

“A monster.” Geralt finishes for her. “Are you?”

She looks at him curiously, “How am I to know? When I cut my finger, I bleed. That’s human, right? When I overeat, my stomach aches. When I’m happy, I laugh. When I’m upset, I swear. And when I hate someone… for stealing my whole life from me, I kill him.”

“Hm.” He couldn’t begrudge her that, others had done far worse for less.

“People call you a monster too.” She states

“A mutant.” He corrects.

“What if they come after you?” She says. “Attack you?”

And its not hard to imagine in the slightest, because they have. Driven him and jaskier out of many villages. “They have.”

“Why not kill them?”

“Because then… I am what they say I am.” A sad look crosses her face.

“If I tell you Witcher, that I can neither forgive Stregobor nor renounce my revenge, is that it?” she asks, “I admit I’m a monster.”

“Yes.” He whispers, “Or… you can leave Blaviken…and finally live.”

“I only know how to kill.” She mutters

“And so do I… you could come to Kaer Morhen… train. Learn to hunt things that seek to destroy… become something different… better. You choose princess.”

He takes Roach’s reins and walks off into the distance.

********

Geralt finally finished cleaning off Roach, and he knows that even if he leaves now he will miss Jaskier’s performance. So he decides to let Roach rest a bit longer… ok so maybe Jaskier isn’t the only one that spoils her. Get some sleep himself. “You know what Vesemir would say. Witchers shouldn’t play at being white knights. We shouldn’t try and uphold the law. We not show off. We get paid in coin.” He tells Roach.

He doesn’t bother pitching his tent the sky is clear so he sets out his bedroll chucking it to the ground before going up to the horse, his head by her neck. Stroking her. “And he’s right.” Roach blows a puff of air in response.

“Hm. Want to hear about mine and Jaskier’s first monster?” He asks her, she snorts looking at him. “Wasn’t 50 miles outside of Kaer Morhen. He was huge. Stinking.” Roach nickers, like she is telling him to continue.

“Bald head, rotten teeth. He pulled that girl from the cart, tore her dress off in front of her father and said, it’s time you meet a real man. I told him it was time he met one too. Jaskier got hurt pulling the girl to safety. It took two strikes to kill him.” He can sense Renfri is close by, listening into this story too. “They weren’t clean. But they were spectacular. I turned to the girl afterwards, she was drenched in Jaskier’s and the mans blood. She took one look at me screamed, vomited, passed out.”

Roach snorts at him again, “Yeah. I thought the world needed me too.” She nickers in response.

He sits down and eats his dinner. “Who are you talking to?” Renfri asks

“I talk to my horse.” He sighs

“That’s sad.” She points out.

“Is it?”

“Tell me Witcher, you don’t believe in destiny or the lesser evil. What do you believe in?” She asks

Silver eyes and brown hair fills his mind and he can’t even bring himself to deny it. “You mean… who do I believe. I don’t pick sides.”

“You just kill monsters.” He waves his spoon in the air in agreement.

She steps out of the shadows and sits by his side. “I’ve made my decision, you gave me an ultimatum and I find they work. Tomorrow I will leave Blaviken… for good… come with you.”

He looks to her and smiles slightly. “My men love me and I love them. But its been a long time since someone saw me, the real me. When I was a girl my mother used to run her fingers… over my forehead. She’d say she’d give a lovely lintar… to know the thoughts going around in there.”

She shuffles over to sit into Geralt’s side tucking under his arm. And he knows Jaskier would be better at offering her comfort… will be better at offering her comfort. But he does what he thinks Jaskier would do… minus the singing. He lets his sword calloused fingers brush her forehead, stroking her hair a little until she relaxes into his side. Pressing a small kiss to her forehead, trying to ignore the scent of tears rolling quietly down her face.

Later he lets her stay on his bedroll and he lays on his cloak, he tells her about Witchers and familiars. He tells her about Jaskier. He tells her that while she can’t become a Witcher, that knowledge lost. She can learn to fight still, never fear of her safety from men on the rod again. She falls asleep next to him. He meditates by her side.  
  


******

He meditates that night, not wanting to drift too long and wants to easily wake up if she needed. He can hear she wakes up, he’s been meditating long enough he is almost completely asleep. He hears her voice like an echo far away. Like its not even really there. “You were in the market covered in blood. You say you can’t choose, but you had to. And you’ll never know if you were right.” Her voice echoes even more distant, and even though he tries to wake up he can’t. “Your reward will be a stoning. And you will run. You will try to outrun the girl in the woods, but you cannot. She is your destiny.”

His eyes finally open, he scans the area calls out for her but no response. “Renfri.” 

******

He makes his way to the market as quick as he can. When he enters Blaviken its tense. Everyone is looking at him, he can hear their whispers. It’s odd to see a Witcher without his armour and carrying one sword, looking as he is determined his eyes on only one goal… Renfri. 

He can feel his mental shields slipping, Jaskier peeking through feeling his hurt betrayal and he rushes to put it back up. Jaskier can’t be here not for this.

Nohorn and his men walk in front of him. “She’d knew you’d come.” He tells him

“Where’s Renfri?”

He stands a fair distance away and he can hear the villagers scurrying away. Probably for the best. Safer that way. “She’s at the tower with your little friend, Marilka.” Nohorn sneers.

“She gave us message to pass on to you.” One of others says stepping forward. “You have to choose the lesser evil.”

“It’s an ultimatum,” another croaks drawing his sword, “Get it?”

He looks at her men in front of him, can see that they won’t give up and he knows that the only way through is to kill them. “Fuck.”

He raises his sword, it practically sings as it cuts through the air. He brings it close ready to attack. He hears the crossbow click as the arrow flies through the air towards him, he easily deflects it with his sword. The man who drew his sword first charges forward screaming. Geralt easily deflects his sword, slicing him across the chest before driving his sword through the mans mouth and with a hand on his blade pulls it up through his head. He crumbles to the ground.

He stalks forward, he can’t help the adrenaline that courses through him. “WITCHER!” Another shouts

Geralt ducks down under his sword and pushes his sword so the mans goes up past his head and as Geralt spins around him his sword cuts him in half. He goes forward raising his sword for the next blow hitting the mans axe, the sword goes through his leg catching the artery on its path he will bleed out quickly, on his swords way out the axe catches on his sword and flings the weapon off to the side.

A man tries to come at him from behind, but Geralt can smell him… smell his fear. He changes hold of his sword, holding it like a spear and drives the sword into the mans foot. His screams are too loud in Geralt’s ears. He elbows him in the gut, the man on instinct drops to the ground his weapon forgotten. He pulls the sword out only for it to drive down into the mans head.

He too falls.

He can hear, smell their panic rising. In the ones that are left. He spins his sword clashing high above his and his next victims head, he pirouettes so his elbow breaks the mans ribs as he grabs the sword from him his own sword punctures the mans chest. The burrowed sword is flung like a dart, it lands in the crossbow archers chest he crumbles back into crates.

Geralt goes forward four left to go. They are all huddled together and it’s the only smart decision that they came with, Nohorn is at the back behind the other three. He aards them, they fly back… now seperated, one he can tell died in the fall, Geralt can smell brain matter against the wall he hit. This will be over quickly. One recovers quickly and rushes forward, Geralt deflects easily his sword going into the side of the mans neck. The next one comes at his and Geralt grabs his sword arm stopping his advance and puts his sword into his chest. He too crumbles.

All that’s left is Nohorn. Geralt is glad he has two swords so he can block Nohorn’s blade. He manages to get the second sword into his chest, and pushes him so he is stuck to the door. Nohorn looks at him a grim look on his face. Before Geralt raises his steel sword, he cleaves off the mans head. It rolls to the ground with a thud. His body still pinned to the door.

“Geralt!” He hears Marilka scream, “Geralt!”

He walks towards her voice, he can see Renfri has a tight hold on her and a sword to her neck. He can’t help the pants that leaves his body as nervous tension fills him. The girl doesn’t deserve to get caught up in all of this. “Geralt!” She cries

He marches forward, Renfri stepping out of the shadows more. Terror in Marilka’s face. “You chose.” Renfri whispers

“Let the girl go.” He demands

Renfri looks down at the girl a sneer on her face, and Geralt knows this will end badly that he wont be able to convince her. No matter how hard he tries. “I will kill her.” She seethes, “I will kill everyone here until Stregobor comes down.”

“He wont come Renfri. But you don’t have to do this.” He begs, “Leave Blaviken.”

He casts axii hoping to calm her somewhat let her see this is madness. “It’s not too late.”

“Magic doesn’t work on me.” She tells him’ “Silver does though.”

“Silver is for monsters.” He tells her, your not one goes unsaid.

Renfri pushes Marilka to the side, the girl screaming. Renfri lays her blade flat on her arm as she advances forward. “If we cross swords…” Geralt warns

“I won’t be able to stop.” Renfri finishes

She lunges forward and Geralt has to swerve to the sides to avoid her blows, before rearing back to avoid when she lunges for his throat. He blocks her next few blows, easily. He doesn’t fight to kill he only blocks so far, he is foolishly hopeful that this could end with both of them alive. It’s like a dance, the music being their blades as they clash against each other and hum as they go through the air. He manages to pin her to the wall. Fire in her eyes as she hisses “They created me just as they created you. We’re not so different.”

He doesn’t spot as she pulls out a dagger stabbing him in the side he grabs her arm and pushes her sword back, her dagger pulling as it slides out of his body. And their dance continues. He manages to get his sword so it lands on her shoulder. Forcing her to her knees. She slices across his thigh with her dagger. And brings the two blades in front of her. They both manage a few more parry’s both getting shallow cuts in. Before he finally manages to force her sword out of her hand. His sword pressing to her neck he throws her sword back far from them. He keeps his sword at her throat for a few seconds. She stares at him, her eyes big… childlike. He lowers his sword. She wastes no time raising her dagger about to strike. But he catches her arm and bends its back the dagger going into her neck.

Panic is in her eyes, a wet gurgle escaping from her lips. He pulls the blade out of her neck, blood seeping quickly from the wound. She falls into his arms, he gently lowers her to the ground. “The girl in the woods will be with you always. She is your destiny.” She whispers

He strokes her forehead like he did the night before a sad smile on her face. She dies in his arms before he lowers her to the ground.

******

He stays off to the side as he hears the villagers return to the streets. He keeps out of the way. He can hear Stregobor approaching. He can hear the disgust from the villagers. Stregobor stands over Renfri a sneer on his face. He kneels by her side. “Incredible.” He utters under his breath, “Marilka! Marilka!” He says almost panicked

The girl walks forward, she looks quite shaken up, he can smell her fear. Stregobor stands and turns back to the forming crowd. “Get me a car. We’ll take her to the tower for an autopsy.”

That’s when Geralt chooses to come out his sword aimed at the mage. The mage turns the blade at his throat. “If you touch a single hair on her head…yours will be on the ground next.” He growls

“Have you gone mad?” The mage asks, “Her mutation. It influences people. That’s how she got these men to follow her. We need to take it. She got to you too, didn’t she?”

Geralt doesn’t move, “Do not… touch her.” He threatens

“Witcher.” The mages says, “You butchered bodies in the streets of Blaviken.”

And just like that the crowd starts shouting at him, “You’re a beast!” And “You endangered the girl.” And other slurs and offences hurled at him.

“You took the law into your own hands.” Stregobor leans forward there is so much shouting that Geralt can’t make out the words anymore. “You made your choice.”

Geralt moves his sword away from the mage, standing in shock. What does he do? He can feel his mental shields slipping and he can’t let Jaskier see this, see him as a monster. “And you’ll never know if it was the right one.” Stregobor hisses

That’s when a stone hits the back of his head, it’s like a dam then once one threw a rock they all started. His shields are slipping and Jaskier’s voice is poking through. _“Geralt?”_

_“It’s ok Jaskier,”_ he doesn’t want him to see this.

_“What’s going on? Are you ok?”_ _Jaskier asks his voice panicked._

_“I will tell you when I get to Roggeveen!”_

He somehow finds the strength to put his shields back up. When did he end up kneeling? Stones are still being thrown at him, he looks up to see Marilka in front of him. Anger all across her face. “Get out of Blaviken, Geralt.” She looks down at him shaking her head, “Don’t ever come back.”

He can’t help the hurt that pulls at his chest he looks down at Renfri in front of him blood across her neck. And he realises that he has failed them both. He brushes Renfri’s forehead one more time, he doesn’t want to but he will have to leave her behind. He grabs her brooch and stands up and turns away limping out of Blaviken. Rocks still being hurled at his back _._ He needs to get to Roggeveen.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed x


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tell her what you told me!” Lambert snapped at Aiden
> 
> Aiden sits closer to Hanna, “Have you heard from Geralt?” He asked softly 
> 
> “No? Are him and Jaskier, ok?” she asked nervously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is how the others find out the news about Blaviken. We meet Aiden in this chapter he uses the word minne which according to the elder speech generator I used means love... whether it actually does is a toss up but I am hoping good old google didn’t lie to me. This was a nice chapter to write something a little different. 
> 
> Also trigger warning Eskel has a panic attack in this chapter if that is something that triggers you please skip from (Klara sat back, disappearing into a puff of black smoke to the other world.) and start again (He’s sad but ok, Jaskier is taking him to Kaer Morhen early this year.)
> 
> Once again italics are for when familiars and Witchers talk telepathically.

* * *

Eskel slowly made his way into town, his cloak up and covering his face, he preferred it that way. A bag slung over his back, carrying the head of a griffon that had been plaguing the town. He didn’t like it the way that the towns folk would stare at him, stare at the scars n his face. Assume the worst of him. Klara walked by his side, proud and tall as always. She kept close enough that she would often brush up against him, but it was best not to be too affectionate in more hostile towns. It could be used against them it had been used against others before them.

He could smell their fear rolling off them in waves, not that he suspected anything else. He looked down to the ground his hand coming up rubbing his scar a bad habit when he was uncomfortable that left his scar sore. _“Ignore them Eskel, they are not worth it!”_ Klara’s strong voice rolled through his head.

_“They seem more riled up than before?”_

_“Because they are fools who couldn’t spot a good man if he were right in front of him.”_ She looked towards him a smile on her face, he wanted nothing more than to run his hands through her hair, to kiss her senseless. _“I expect that later, my wolf!”_

_“How could I deny a beautiful lady that request?”_

_“Flatterer!”_

They walked over to the alderman’s so Eskel could get his coin for slaying the griffon. He didn’t want to stay in this town for another second longer. Usually he let Klara do most of the talking but he didn’t think that was a good idea, something here really unsettled him. She knocked on the door and stood back next to Eskel’s side.

They stood there for ages waiting for someone to come to the door, “It’s rude to keep us waiting!” Klara whispered under her breath

“Do we expect any less?” Eskel let a short laugh escape his lips

Klara knocked on the door louder this time, “OPEN THE DAMN DOOR ALDERMAN OR I WILL BREAK IT!” She screamed

“Cause that’s going to get us paid!” He murmured

“It’s not my fault they are being **rude**!” She said loud enough for them to hear her

The door opened a maid standing at the door she curtsied for them, “The Alderman is currently indisposed at the moment,” she said avoiding looking Eskel in the eyes, they always avoided him.

“If he removed his cock from the young mans mouth he could see us.” Klara hissed

The maid looked shocked, “Klara.” Eskel warned

“You will get your master for us girl, we will sit here and wait.” She walks through into the hallway pulling Eskel behind her, into the room and into the small parlour room they had met him in before they took the contract.

The girl scurried off and Klara sat in the armchair, her eyes filled with anger. Eskel stood behind her still holding the sack on his back. He kept his eyes on Klara, he wasn’t certain where she was going with this not that he doubted her, he could never doubt her. But he saw how Lambert’s temper was treated and he was loathed to see Klara treated the same, he never wanted to see that light extinguished in her eyes. The alderman a fat and portly man with a red face came in his clothes were slightly skewed and he could smell the scent of sex that clung to him. “You kept us waiting!” Klara scolded

“My apologises my lady,” he said he looked towards Eskel a scowl on his face, “Did you kill it?”

Eskel nodded and brought the sack from his back and opened it for the man to look inside. He leaned forward and looked inside, his face turning pale and Eskel could hear him retch a little at the smell. “I will take the coin promised to me now.”

The alderman went into a drawer and pulled out a coin purse and chucked it at him. He took the coin purse and it felt lighter than it should have. “This is not what was agreed!” Klara hissed

“It is more than what others would give you,” the alderman responded

“Your notice offered more!” Eskel said

“If you don’t give what is owed, then I will contact all other Witchers and tell them to avoid this town, how will your people feel when monsters overrun this town?” Klara threatens

He grumbles and reaches into the drawer and passes Klara extra coin. “She’s more trouble than you Witcher!” The alderman said

Eskel chuckled, “You have no idea!”

“Leave the griffons head outside.”

They walk outside and leave the griffon’s outside. Making their way towards the tavern both wanting and deserving a drink before they leave. A group of men linger at the doorway, scowling at them. “We don’t want your kind here Witcher!” One shouts

“”We are just here to get a drink good sir, before we hit the road.” Eskel tells them

He can feel Klara bristle next to him, _“Klara, please keep calm.”_

“I thought you were supposed to have good hearin’, Witcher?” Another said blocking their entrance.

“No they are too busy butchering towns!” One said, “Look he has a wolf medallion that’s where the butcher of Blaviken comes from, it could be him?”

“Nah that one had white hair!”

_“Geralt…”_ Klara whispered in his head, “Eskel wait don’t!”

Eskel ignores her in favour of pushing one of them against the door pinning him under his arm, “Explain, now!” He growled

He puts his mental shields up he doesn’t want Klara trying to calm him, he wants to know why someone would accuse his brother of butchering people. Witchers hunted monsters… not humans not without good reason. How could he? “They say that a wolf Witcher went and butchered people in the streets of Blaviken, no reason why.” The guy murmurs

“You lie!” Eskel roars, “You’ve heard wrong!”

He feels Klara’s hand on his shoulder, “Come Eskel, lets go.” She whispers

He lets the man drop and storms out to where they had made camp, Scorpion and Petal waiting for them. He looked at Petal a young mare, with a grey coat. Klara had wanted to change the name of the horse saying it wasn’t a fit name for the horse of a Witcher and a familiar. Geralt had been beside himself saying that the three year old horse had already gotten used to her name and that changing it was wrong. This coming from the man who had named every horse the same since his first.

The same Geralt he had comforted when he had been in pain, when forced to do the extra trials and mutations which had him in pain for months. How he would use Eskel’s big hands to cover his eyes while his own palms were pushed into his ears trying to drown out the sounds of the keep. _“Eskel, darling?”_

He looked up to see Klara staring at him, worry in those big silver eyes of hers. “I said did you want me to see if I can contact Jaskier, find out what I going on?” She murmured, stroking his hair.

Eskel nodded, Jaskier would say that this was a load of old rubbish. Just another lie fabricated by humans to hate Witchers even more. That perhaps Geralt had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and that they pinned the blame on him. That had to be it. There was no way his brother could do that.

Klara sat back, disappearing into a puff of black smoke to the other world. Where she could summon Jaskier to her, ask him what was going on.

And Eskel hated every moment that she was gone, it feeling like an eternity. What if she couldn’t get Jaskier? What if they were gone?

His chest tightened painfully at that thought, but he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Imagining a world where his brother wasn’t with him, blood pounded in his ears. His mouth going dry and his fingers dug into his palms trying to stop the tremor that had started. Why was he shaking? The more he focused on his inability to control the shakiness in his fingers, the harder he found it to breathe. He looked around, had someone cursed him? He needed Klara. He needed to see Geralt. His vision was starting to look distorted when he heard Klara. “Eskel love,” she whispered

Her hands were stroking his face, not the side of his scar. Oh god what if Geralt became like him? That tightness in his chest got worse, he was leaning forward his hands resting holding something, even if his eyes couldn’t focus on what that was. “Cursed?” He slurred

“You aren’t cursed Eskel.” She whispers softly

They sit in silence, Eskel’s heart beat slowly calming down, under Klara’s gentle caresses and gentle gaze. After quite some time when his breathing wasn’t so laboured and his ears weren’t drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat, he whispered “Is Geralt ok?”

“He’s sad but ok, Jaskier is taking him to Kaer Morhen early this year. They are avoiding villages they are about two weeks from Kaer Morhen.” Klara explains

“He’s not… he isn’t…” He paused taking a deep breath, “He isn’t scarred?”

Klara holds his hand tightly, he enjoys the pressure that comes from her. The comfort her touch provides, “No more than usual, love.”

Eskel sighs with relief. They spend the rest of the night wrapped in each other’s arms.

********  
  


Hanna was cleaning her and Lambert’s swords, a task she enjoyed doing at the end of a hard day. She liked to make them gleam and sparkle in the moonlight. It was a task she enjoyed doing with Vesemir back in the keep. Made her think of home. She could hear Lambert walking back to their camp, another was with him she could smell them, another Witcher, a cat. A smirk stretched across her face, without looking up at the pair she teased them. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

Looking up she saw Aiden walking over, Lambert behind him. A sour look on his face, one that wasn’t normally there when their cat Witcher would come to visit. “What’s wrong?” She asked

Aiden came over, he bent down pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hanna, good to see you.” He murmured against her cheek.

“Aiden always a pleasure,” She said smiling, she couldn’t help but gaze off at Lambert who dropped onto the ground nearby with a soft thud, his shoulders tense ad his brows furrowed. Through their bond, Hanna could feel his anger rising, “Lambert?”

“Tell her what you told me!” Lambert snapped at Aiden

Aiden sits closer to Hanna, “Have you heard from Geralt?” He asked softly

“No? Are him and Jaskier, ok?” she asked nervously.

Hanna always liked Geralt sometimes they would spar together during the early parts of winter and just before they would leave in spring when the ground was beginning to clear of snow, he gave her a proper fight. “They are alive,” Aiden paused, he chewed his lip a habit that Hanna knew meant he was concentrating. “He murdered people in the streets of Blaviken.”

“Sorry?” Hanna screeched, “He fucking what? Explain now Aiden!”

Aiden raised his hands in surrender, “All I know is that Geralt went into Blaviken and two days later he murdered lots of people in their streets.”

Lambert stood prowling, even without their bond you could feel the anger rolling off him. “You are lying! You must of heard wrong, Geralt wouldn’t do that.” He hissed

Hanna looked at Aiden, a sad look on his face, “Why would I lie my minne?” He said softly

Lambert stopped a soft sad look on his face, “He wouldn’t!” He murmured, Hanna knew he was trying to convince himself rather than Aiden, “I know my brother.”

Hanna went over to his side and tucked under his shoulder rubbing her head against his chest. “I can go to the other world, ask Jaskier?”

Lambert shook his head, he sat down on the ground and pulled Hanna into his lap. His arms around her waist and his head resting at the juncture between neck and shoulder. Breathing in her scent, tension dissolving from his bones. “If it’s true, that Jaskier doesn’t need to be away from Geralt right now. Hopefully he will have talked Geralt into laying low for a while.” He whispered

“I’m sure he would try and suggest they go back home.” She reassured him, she would of said that if she was in Jaskier’s shoes. 

Lambert looked over to Aiden, his gaze softening at the cat Witcher, “Come here?” He begged

Aiden shuffled closer to the other side of Lambert. Wrapping his arms around the other his hands brushing over Hanna’s. “I’m sorry I had to tell you but I thought it best you heard it from me.” Aiden said pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I know,” Lambert whispered, and they know everything is all forgiven.

They go into their tent, Lambert laying in between both of them. Hanna and Aiden sharing knowing glances to each other, waiting for Lambert to fall asleep. “Can I stay with you guys for a bit?” Aiden asks running a hand through Lambert’s red curls.

“We never say you have to go in the first place, your special to us,” Hanna tells him.

“It’s never good to get too comfortable, you know?” Aiden whispers, “Witchers aren’t meant to have nice things.”

Hanna’s heart breaks a little for the cat Witcher, who had gone through so much in his life. Not only receiving hate for being a Witcher, but for his pointed ears. Both things he never had any control over. “That’s not true, otherwise why would you get familiars?” She asked

“Need an incentive? Why would the first lot of Witchers willingly be this otherwise.” He mumbled

“You never got a choice, either of you.” She grumbles

“Neither did you.” She looks down at Lambert, she can’t look Aiden in the eyes not about that.

“I may not have gotten a choice about what I am but I got to choose Lambert, we chose you.” She looked up at Aiden’s eyes, his were more yellow than Lambert’s eyes his were more orangey she wondered if this was due to the different potions they were given during their trials. “Ambrozy chose you.”

“Don’t please,” Aiden choked

He still couldn’t talk about the loss of Ambrozy, the male familiar had died saving Aiden. Aiden had been a mess when Lambert and Hanna found him. Her free hand reached over to brush his cheek, the cat Witcher somehow managed to remain fairly scar free on his face all except for the small scar that cut through his eyebrow. “Lambert was hoping to see you again before winter he wanted to ask you to come to Kaer Morhen.” She whispered keeping quiet for Lambert, “Please consider it Aiden, please.’’

“Is that a good idea?” Aiden asked, it was no secret that cat Witchers were not seen kindly amongst the other Witcher schools.

“Maybe not but we both want you there.”

Lambert shuffled in their arms, “Will you two fucking shut up and go to sleep?” Lambert mumbled, “And your coming to Kaer Morhen whether you like it or not you prick.”

“Your so romantic.” Aiden snorted, pressing a kiss to both of them.

*******  
  
  


Vesemir and Azrael stay near Kaer Morhen helping the villages surrounding the mountain most of the year, they go up for a few weeks a couple of times in the year. To make sure the keep was still standing.

This was the last time they were down before they would go up for the winter season. He loved and hated the winter season, he loved seeing all his girls and boys but he also dreaded who wouldn’t turn up. He liked how they could all relax once general maintenance on the keep was sorted. Well relax as much as they could. 

They had just taken care of a couple of nekkers. And were on their way back to the village, this village was closest to the mountain pass all the Witchers took back up to Kaer Morhen. They were kind in this village, they would pay Vesemir in things he needed to help them survive the Winter. Once the snow truly set in, the Witchers were trapped up there. Every little thing that the village gave them helped them to survive, everything had a use.

The alderman was a lovely woman called Dorthea. Her husband had been the alderman before her but when he grew ill she took over the duties and when he did finally pass the other villagers trusted her to look after their village. She was kind and fair to everyone. She was packing up a cart for them to take back up to the keep. She personally saw to the packing of their cart, after someone accidentally gave them mistletoe 2 years, it had made Azrael ill for weeks. “One of your lads, good lad white hair. Geralt?” She questioned

“Yes?” Azrael said smiling

“I heard some bad rumours about him, I set the bastards straight but thought you would want to hear.” She said

“Bad rumours?” Vesemir asked, concern growing in his gut. What was Geralt and Jaskier getting themselves up to now?

“They said he murdered humans in Blaviken. I told ‘em it must have been Doppler or something. Him and Jaskier are good boys.” She said

“Thank you for defending him.” Azrael said softly, Vesemir knew her too well, had spent over 200 years with her, he could see her worry.

“I’m sure he’s having a rough time of it but he wont when he gets here. He saved me from a troll when I was small, he wont receive any discrimination from this village.”

“Thank you Dorthea.” They said in unison.

“I will send your lads up with more stuff for you, save your old horses back.” She said

“Hope the winter is kind to you.” Azrael tells the woman

“Same to you dear,” Dorthea said grasping Azrael’s hand.

They make their way to the pass, grabbing a few other necessities on the way. They needed woollen cloth and lots of it, most blankets and cloaks were moth eaten or well worn. It was later than they would have liked when they started going up the mountain. But they new the trail like the back of their hand, had travelled it in all conditions. “You ok, Ves?” Azrael asked a good way from the village.

“No Azi, what has our boys gotten themselves into?” He mumbled

He loved all of his family dearly, but he had looked after Geralt cleaning sweat off his brow and rubbing his back while he was sick, during his extra mutations it had made them even closer. Geralt had come to Kaer Morhen very young, one of the youngest they received and he can remember the four year old boy running up to his and Azi’s room for the first month after coming to the keep crying for his mother. Azrael held his hand tightly and he could see that she felt the same. She had been with him every step of the way, she too was attached to him. “He will tell us hen he comes home.” She murmurs, “At least he has Jaskier with him.”

********  
  


Bronwen walked through the healers house, she agreed to do chores to pay for Cöen’s treatment. They had been a little tight on money, camping in the woods when they came across a wyvern and in the fight Cöen broke his arm. The healer agreed to set the bone for some assistance. A minor infection had spread throughout the village and four people had succumbed to the illness and they needed someone to clean the rooms who wouldn’t get ill. Cöen had been adamant that he wanted to help but Bronwen forced him to rest while she did the work. She didn’t want him to risk his still fragile arm, a Witcher heals quickly but bone is bone and still needs time to heal properly. Once he was healed enough they would make their way back up to Kaer Morhen it would be a little earlier than normal but it wouldn’t be best to rest his arm.

Bronwen could feel Cöen’s grumbling even from here. Cöen as much as she loved him dearly, could be a grumpy bastard sometimes… he wasn’t as bad as Lamber though! That wasn’t too hard though.

She was washing the linens when she let a sharp pull in her mind. One of her fellow familiars was trying to pull her to the other world. She reached out and could feel it was Hanna calling to her. _“Hanna’s calling me, I will make sure her and Lamber are ok.”_ She said to Cöen through their bond.

_“Ok, love.”_

She squeezed her eyes shut and let Hanna pull her to the other world. Bronwen hated how it made her feel, she hated the cold feeling that enveloped her. Hanna was in front of her, the usual fierceness in her gaze dulled in this world. Her own ginger hair a dull grey here. Everything here was devoid of colour and life. No one missed this place. ‘Hanna?”

“Have you heard about Geralt or Jaskier?” Hanna asked

“You brought me here to gossip? Cöen has a broken arm I have no time for this.” Bronwen exclaimed

“You need to hear this,” Hanna paused for a second. “Geralt murdered people in the streets of Blaviken, contracts are hard to get for the wolf school, I would hide Cöen’s medallion.”

“Why would he do that?” Bronwen asked, this didn’t sound like Geralt.

“I talked to Klara, she said that Geralt had no choice, Jaskier is taking him back home. Me and Klara are telling as many of the others as we can so they can be cautious. Avoid certain areas especially around Blaviken.” Hanna said

“Good idea,” she muttered. “Once Cöen has healed up a little I was going to head back up anyway but I will definitely take a different route.”

“Where are you now?” Hanna asked

“Rinde.” Bronwen said, “We were going to take a bit of a detour going up through Poviss and approach Kaer Morhen from the North but I think we will go through Caingorn.”

Hanna nodded in agreement, “Stay safe on the path sister.”

“Stay safe sister.”

Bronwen focused on her bond to Cöen, her anchor to the continent. And let herself be pulled pack to him. Colour came back to her vision, she stood in front of Cöen. She buried herself carefully in his arms to avoid the broken one as much as possible. He was her furnace, he always made her feel better, safer after going to the other world. “Is Lambert and Hanna ok?” He asked, brushing her hair.

“Lambert is in good health, it’s Geralt.” She whispered

A frown stretched across his face, “He’s not…” Cöen trailed off, he couldn’t bing himself to finish that sentence.

“He’s alive, but he murdered people in the streets of Blaviken. Klara has spoken to Jaskier he had reason to do it, Jaskier is taking him to Kaer Morhen.”

“Fuck.”

“Hanna said to hide your medallion, and we should avoid going through Poviss. Go through Caingorn instead.”

He pressed a kiss to her head, “Smart idea.”

*********  
  


Józef laid in bed, Roksana in his arms. They had spent the evening killing a pack of werewolves outside of Tridam. And they were exhausted, his muscles ached and he was still coming down from the effects of his potions.

Her soft steady hands were brushing circles into his chest, it helped to ground him when his mind was still reeling from the potions. “I didn’t like the looks they gave you earlier.” Roksana mumbled.

“They don’t like Witchers around here, nothing else Roks.” He said reassuringly

“It felt different.” She whispered into his chest.

His arms tightened around her, “I was covered in werewolf remains.” He pointed out, chuckling a little.

“You’re right.” She said reaching up to kiss him, “Hmm.”

He looked down to see her eyes glaze over a little, and he knew one of the others was trying to contact her. “Roks?” He mumbled

“Hanna is trying to get me.” She said

“Do you have to go? We just got comfortable, can’t you stay with me?” He begged

She smiled up at him, her beautiful silver eyes staring up at him, “I can ignore her for now.”

His arms circled around her holding her close. “I love you, Jo.” She murmured into his lips

“Love you too.”

They fell asleep in each other’s arms. Keeping each other warm in the autumn night.

Józef was rudely awakened by the door slamming open. He barely had anytime to react, when Roksana was pulled out of his arms. “JO!” Roksana screeched.

The bastards had her by the hair And were wrapping an iron chain around her stopping her from disappearing, he could see it burn her skin. “Please let her go!” He pleaded, “Take me instead, just please let her go!”

“Jo just go save yourself!” She cried.

“I won’t leave you.” He looked at the men, “What do I have to do for you to let her go?”

“You are from the wolf school, right?” One asked

“Yes!” He said, even if he wasn’t he would say anything to save her.

“He could be the butcher, be careful George.” Another said

“I don’t know who this butcher is but I haven’t met him before. Please let her go” He said, he would of used axii but it only worked on a couple of people at once, there was too many here for him to attempt it. Without risking making things worse. “Please take the chain off her at least!”

He was hoping that was the only trick that they knew and that they wouldn’t realise she could disappear. “She’s fine where she is!” The one holding her said

“Tell me what you want?” Józef growled

“We want to make all Witchers pay for what happened in Blaviken.” The man shouted.

“I have had enough of this.” Józef hissed

He cast aard and the men went flying back into the wall and he pulled Roksana away, pulling the chain away from her. She slumped into his arms. “Go!” He told her pushing her behind him.

He drew his sword and began fighting with the men coming at him. He made sure not to kill any of them just hurt or knock them out. “JO WATCH OUT!” He heard Roksana cry out

He turned around Roksana in front of him, blade thrust into her chest. An iron blade. A deathly roar left his body and he removed the bastards head, blood splattering across the wall the others ran. Roksana collapsed into his arms. “No, no, no” He said brushing her hair out of her face. “It’s going to be ok, I will get help.”

He hoisted her up into his arms and she cried out in pain. “Jo put me down, please love.” She whispered

“Ok, just for a few minutes then we need to get you help, ok?” He whispered back, he rocked her back and forth a little, trying to ignore how her form was growing fainter.

“I love you Jo.” She said smiling

“I love you too.” He bent down, kissing her on the lips. “I need to fix this, tell me how to fix this?”

Her hand came up cupping his cheek. “It’s ok!”

He could hear her heartbeat stop, he held her tightly as she disappeared from his arms. Whoever this butcher was he was going to make sure they pay.

**A few weeks later.**

Józef walked next to his horse Arlo, walking towards Kaer Morhen. Everything felt like a chore, without Roksana by his side. He felt numb inside. Everything was so silent without her, talking to him in his mind. “Hey Jo!” Lambert called from behind him

He turned around to see Lambert with a cat Witcher and Hanna. “Where’s Roksana?” Hanna asked

The tightness in his chest grew, “She’s…” he trailed off, he didn’t no he couldn’t say it.

Hanna came over and rested a hand on his shoulder, sadness in her eyes. “What happened?”

“We were in Tridam, some men came into our room at night accused us of being some butcher. They had iron blades.” He saw the look on their faces, “What? Who is this butcher?”

He had to know, he needed to know. “Geralt… he didn’t have a choice.” Lambert mumbled

He didn’t respond after that, it was Geralt’s fault that Roksana was gone. It was all his fault.

It takes them three days to make it up to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir opening the gates for them and across the training yard, he can see them. And his vision goes red. There Geralt is standing there with his familiar in his arms. It was all his fault. He was the reason that Roks wasn’t here with him. It was a stab in the gut seeing Jaskier in Geralt’s arms. That Geralt should have this, and he doesn’t. He vowed for Roksana to make him pay, to make Geralt feel how he feels.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear Józef isn’t happy! What will he do? Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy xx


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s been a while, someone hit my car and then I had whiplash and just lost a little motivation but I am back now. Hope you enjoy this chapters, as always italics is for when they are communicating telepathically. 
> 
> And there is a sex scene if this is a trigger for some stop reading at Jaskier’s clothes are folded and sat far away from the water. And you can start back up at Jaskier watches as Lambert comes into the keep with Hanna and another Witcher clearly from the school of Cat.
> 
> Enjoy x

* * *

“Did I tell you I hate the trek up here?” Jaskier panted.

They had been walking the mountain pass for two days, and they maybe had one more day before they would reach Kaer Morhen. Jaskier was ready for a long dip in the hot springs and to relax, they needed it. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.” Geralt said a smirk on his face. “I said I wouldn’t be offended if you turned into your cat form and took a break!”

“You’d like it too much!” Jaskier puffed

“Maybe silence would help preserve your strength?” Geralt offered

“That’s your solution to everything!”

“Maybe one day it will work?”

“Traitor!” Jaskier screeched.

He did however listen to Geralt’s advise and stop talking for a little while at least, he was trying to compose a song that would help change public opinion of Witchers. His previous songs obviously weren’t doing enough. It had to be something more. He had to do something more… especially after Blaviken.

Geralt hadn’t been the same since. They had walked in complete silence, for weeks after, not even talking through their bond and Jaskier felt ashamed for feeling so isolated, they had never been this silent not even when they weren’t together. And felt even more guilty for the relief when Geralt started getting more chatty. 

Jaskier had been angry that Geralt wouldn’t let him go kill Stregobor. Gods did he want that man to pay. The bastard deserved a slow death and Jaskier wanted to be the one to bring it to him. He was still imagining the kind of torment he could inflict, hopefully one day.

Neither of them could ride Roach up here, with the altitude it wasn’t fair to the ageing mare. He loved how Geralt carried as much as he could to avoid causing his mare any damage. This Roach was starting to get on in years and it showed with Geralt’s gentleness towards her. It would probably only be a few more years for her on the path, before she came back up to retire… Witcher horses got a better retirement plan than their owners.

Geralt had been hiding under his cloak on their travels to Kaer Morhen, no matter the weather. Except for when he had given Jaskier his cloak, when the familiar shivered one too many times he went instead for walking by Roach’s side letting her hide him from view.

Jaskier couldn’t help but wander about the others on their travels. It would be a couple weeks before the others on the path would consider making their way back up the mountain. Would any of them suffer from this? Would they blame Geralt? Klara had contacted him asking if it had been true. That had been hard to deal with. 

He also wondered who would make it back? He shook his head he didn’t want to think of that. “I think we need to give Roach a break.” Geralt muttered

He looked up to see the horse looking exhausted, a light sheen of sweat covering her coat. They made camp to the side of the path, not trusting to go any further off the path too many creatures guarded the woods. Roach now had all their equipment off her back and was happily munching on the grass. Jaskier sat by the fire while Geralt warmed the stew they had bought in the town not far from the mountain anticipating there wouldn’t be much up here. Dorthea, ever pleasant and charming gave them some supplies to bring up with them.

Jaskier was good at a few things, cooking was not one of them. Up until he bonded, he hadn’t needed to eat. He might have been rapidly approaching 500 but he had only spent the last 85 years actually eating food.

He also enjoyed watching Geralt do something with his hands that didn’t involve his sword. He knew that Eskel was good at sewing and had mended most of his own clothes and Klara’s he even once made her a dress. It wasn’t perhaps the most fashionable… in Jaskier’s opinion but in all fairness the top half was basically armour. Lambert was something of a blacksmith. Apparently that had been his fathers profession when he still lived with them and Lambert had managed to pick up the trade. He had made Hanna a beautiful dagger with pearl inlaid into the hilt. He had also made daggers for the other familiars to keep on them at all times. Jaskier still had his concealed in a pocket sewn into his doublet.

And aside from his gentle care of Roach, Geralt didn’t have anything that didn’t revolve around swords and monsters at least until he realised Geralt’s knack for cooking. He tended to sort out dinners in Kaer Morhen most winters. Which gave him the chance to bake, Jaskier was always more than willing to try the baked goods that he made.

They sat close together as they ate their stew, it was getting chilly now it was getting darker. Jaskier did most of the talking telling him about his song contest and maybe embellishing some details, Geralt didn’t need to know that he had been too busy worrying about him to actually have a good time, he didn’t want to add to his guilt.

They laid down after their dinner had settled and watched the stars dance across the sky above them, eventually they fell asleep Jaskier laying over Geralt’s chest, his steady breathes helping Jaskier to drift off.

When Geralt woke, Jaskier was in cat form and laying on Geralt’s chest like he had done the first night they spent together. A snap of a branch pulled Geralt’s attention from his familiar, he gently eased Jaskier off his chest. Bandits coming into view. “Give us the horse and your weapons and we won’t kill you!” the bandit hissed

Geralt was standing, drawing his steel sword forward. “Like fuck I’m going to do that!”

“Do as we say Butcher!”

Before Geralt could respond, Jaskier ran at them still as a cat he sprang at them turning into his smoke form mid leap circling the bandits. He vaguely saw a shape in the smoke like Jaskier’s hand appear the dagger Lambert made glistening as the men crumbled to the floor. When Jaskier materialised, he was splattered with blood. “Are you ok Geralt?” he ran other smoothing his hands down Geralt’s arms.

“Didn’t have chance to not be, you stepped in before I had chance.” He said, smiling.

When a blinding pain pulled through his shoulder. He yelled as he sank to his knees. He barely heard the shout that came from Jaskier, except he could feel the rage emanating from the familiar and he disappeared from Geralt’s side he could hear the fight. Could hear the last bandits scream as Jaskier showed no mercy.

When he rushed back in front of Geralt he was almost completely drenched in blood. “Sorry love this is going to hurt!” he whispered.

He yanked the arrow bolt out of his shoulder. And went rummaging through Geralt’s saddlebag to find the swallow potion. “Here drink!” Jaskier insisted

He drank the potion, and the pain did lessen. But it would still take time for it to fully heal. Jaskier packed up Roach. “Can you walk darling?” Jaskier asked

Geralt stood on shaky legs, his body felt woozy, leaning heavily into Jaskier’s body. When he smelt the poison on the arrowhead. “…Poison…” he murmured 

Jaskier held Roach’s reins. “I can smell it too; we need to get to Vesemir now!” he said

“It’s still a days walk maybe two if I start to struggle.” Jaskier’s eyes started to glow silver. Geralt tried to pull weakly from his lovers grasp. “No Jas, you’re not supposed to, we don’t know what it will do to you!”

“We haven’t got much of a choice here Geralt. The magic up here prevents me from just flying us to Kaer Morhen, besides if it doesn’t have iron or mistletoe in it we will be fine.” Jaskier said

“We can’t know that for certain!” He murmured.

He pulled a resistant Geralt closer, his arms wrapping tightly around the Witcher. This was risky what Jaskier was doing, but he didn’t care. Familiars couldn’t heal not in the way of a mage, but he could transfer Geralt’s illness into himself. It was heavily frowned upon. Because of how dangerous it was, but Jaskier never listened to things like that. He couldn’t stand to see Geralt in pain, he didn’t know whether this poison would kill him, he wouldn’t take the risk.

It didn’t feel right, Geralt’s medallion was practically buzzing against his chest. Like when Jaskier hitched a ride with him to this world. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, only this time he felt it in Jaskier as well. A glow spread between them and as quickly as it arrived it slammed into Jaskier’s body.

Jaskier slumped into Geralt’s body, Geralt’s head clearer now and the toxins definitely not in his body. “You feeling better?” he whispered his words slurred

He was, there was no trace of poison in him whatsoever. “What about you?” he asked, brushing Jaskier’s hair back

“I’ll be fine.” Jaskier murmured

“Turn into a cat and I can carry you.” Geralt whispered, stroking Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier did as he was told for once, which Geralt was thankful for, he held him in his arm the other hand guiding Roach. He didn’t like how Jaskier shook in his grasp. Or how shallow his breaths sounded.

But now that Geralt was in peak health again. He moved them a little relentlessly, he would apologise to Roach later, but right now he was determined to get to Kaer Morhen. _“Slow down handsome, don’t push Roach to far!”_

_“Save your energy, Jaskier.”_

_“It’s fine honestly Geralt. My body is working off the poison as we speak I will just be a little out of it for a couple of days. I would do it again.”_

_“Damnit Jaskier! I don’t want you to do it again.”_

_“You wouldn’t be able to stop me if you wanted to darling.”_

Unfortunately, he was right, he hadn’t been able to stop him then. Sometimes he forgot how strong Jaskier was. Not because Jaskier gave him cause to think him weak, it was just how he let Geralt take care of him most of the time. Let him do the fighting, he didn’t like Jaskier fighting for him always worried that he would somehow get hurt. He couldn’t risk him. Couldn’t risk him disappearing.

They walked long into the day, when Geralt saw Kaer Morhen in the distance he was beyond relieved. It was maybe another hour walk if that. Jaskier was now sleeping in his arms. His breathing had returned to normal an hour ago, but he still wasn’t 100% that much he was certain of. He could still smell the poison in his system.

*************

When Jaskier wakes he is in human form and laying in his and Geralt’s bed. He finds Geralt next to him on the bed his eyes closed but sitting up against the headboard, holding his hand. “Geralt?” he murmured

Golden eyes snapped open, turning to look at him. “How are you feeling?” he asked

“Fine my darling.”

“Good because Azrael wants to have a go at you for doing something so reckless.” Geralt said a soft smile on his face.

“Protect me?” he whispered

An arm wrapped around the bard pulling him close, “Of course,”

The lecture that Azrael gave him was somewhat diminished by the bear hug she gave him after.

For the next couple of weeks, they did all the little jobs that required more than just two pairs of hands. He was in the library with Vesemir sorting out the books today. Geralt was at the stables repairing the roof. And Azrael tending to the herbs. “What happened on the path?” Vesemir asked breaking the silence, “Geralt never comes home this early, you two are usually the last to get here.”

He explains what happened in Blaviken. How he hadn’t been there for him, how he failed Geralt. Tears prickled his eyes and blurred his vision. A strong hand came to rest on his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault Jaskier,” Vesemir said

“I couldn’t help him though!” he whispered

“You help him more than you realise boy,” Vesemir said

A light chuckle escaped his lips, “I am 150 years older than you!”

“You are all my boys and girls.” Vesemir admitted.

“Geralt would benefit from a good talk with you!” Jaskier said sniffling

Vesemir pulled him into a hug, “Once I am done looking after you boy.”

They stayed like that for a while, Geralt’s father figure comforting him. The validation of being told that he was doing a good job had him sagging into the comforting hug. Once Jaskier had calmed, Vesemir went off to talk to Geralt.

He watches from a distance, at some point Geralt had gone out and started sparring. Vesemir joining him, they were equally matched. Mainly blocking each other, he could tell that Vesemir had brought it up when an angry look crossed his face and he began swinging with a lot more intent. Vesemir easily blocked him, with the more emotion Geralt displayed the less in control he was. He eventually dropped his sword at whatever Vesemir said and slumped down to his knees. Vesemir kneeling in front of him.

He was about to rush over when Azrael held him still. “Give them a moment, buttercup.” She whispered

He looked down at the familiar her silver eyes looking at him softly, he hadn’t been called buttercup in years. It made him think of his younger years in the other world. He looked back at the Witchers Vesemir hugging Geralt like he had done for Jaskier earlier. “He has a healing hug,” Jaskier whispered softly

Azrael rubbed his arm; familiars weren’t really creatures of comfort. They rarely choose comfort from each other that’s what Witchers were for. Her rubbing his arm had the same feeling that the hug Vesemir gave him earlier held. 

The rest of the day they all kept to themselves. Geralt had assured him he was fine but wanted to be alone. That night at dinner, they talked but it was all filler to keep away the silence. Geralt and Jaskier played a game of Gwent. Geralt was determined to win a game against Lambert when he came back.

When they went to bed that night, he looked around the room. Once the horror of the sacking of Kaer Morhen passed. Vesemir convinced the remaining Witchers to pick new rooms. And Geralt had entrusted that to Jaskier.

And he had chosen well, he had picked a room with a balcony. It was large enough that Geralt could do his stretches out there when the weather was warmer. The view was stunning as well… Jaskier wasn’t just talking about the Witcher doing the stretches either. He had made their room comfortable and lived in. One wall was covered in books another in candles and oils and bath salts.

Their bed sat in the middle of the room, taking centre stage. To one side there were plush benches and the other side was a desk. And various knickknacks that Jaskier had collected over time. A pressed buttercup, a hat that Geralt had said looked ridiculous but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of and a book of compositions that belonged to Jaskier from Geralt. And from Jaskier to his Witcher a painting commissioned of the two of them, a fossilised dragon egg beautiful in colour but barren, the horseshoe from the first Roach and every Roach that followed.

The room while decorated by Jaskier was a perfect blend of the two of them. A perfect place for them to feel comforted and whole.

Jaskier sat on the bed on top of the sheets and furs, wearing nothing but his skin as he watched an equally naked Geralt do his exercises. He watched in fascination as the muscle moved under broad shoulders. _“Staring is rude, Jaskier.”_

_“Then the view shouldn’t be so good.”_

A chuckle left Geralt’s mouth, as he stood up finishing his stretches. He walked over and climbed onto the bed. Jaskier resting his head on his chest. “Thank you.” Geralt whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“For what handsome?” Jaskier murmured sleepily

“For getting Vesemir to talk to me, I needed that.”

“I’ve told you Geralt, I would do anything for you.”

Jaskier falls asleep first, Geralt pulls the furs over them and falls asleep next to him.

Geralt wakes in the morning to Jaskier shrieking in his ear and almost falling off the bed. “What the fuck, Jaskier?” he murmured softly

“I woke up this morning and I realised something!” Jaskier said

He was up and rummaging on their shelves, looking amongst the oils and bath salts. “What’s that?”

“You promised me a good time in the hot springs!” He pouted 

“How rude of me!” he said a smirk on his face

“Get your damn trousers on and let’s get going.” Jaskier almost hissed

He grabs their bath sheets and placed his oils and bath salts on top and practically ran out of the room. “C’mon Geralt” he calls back

Geralt follows after him, not quite as quick as he is after all still waking up. Not a bad way to wake up on their first day of relaxation.

When he gets to the springs, he finds Jaskier having chucked a few bath salts and oils in already the smell of oranges, pine and heather filling the room. But still subtle enough not to be overpowering for a Witchers sense of smell.

Jaskier’s clothes are folded and sat far away from the water. “Stop standing there and strip, Witcher!” Jaskier says sternly hands on his hips.

He doesn’t argue, he undoes the laces slowly pulling down the trousers he lets his foot kick the fabric away. And steps into the warm water. Grabbing a washcloth, Jaskier begins to scrub at their bodies before washing Geralt’s hair. Geralt is sat in a slightly deeper part of the water his head tilted back so Jaskier can wash his hair.

He takes over and washes Jaskier’s hair, not nearly as sensual as Jaskier achieves. But he relishes in the little sighs he gets from the bard.

When he is finished Jaskier dips under the water to get rid of the suds completely. Before coming back up. A smirk on his face. “Up on the side, Geralt.” He coos

Geralt lifts himself out of the water and onto the marble edge of the spring. “Lay back, darling.” The familiar whispers again, “Let me have you.”

Geralt lays back goosebumps rise on his skin from the cool marble touching his back, Jaskier pushes his legs apart. Jaskier slides down his body his dark hair brushing against Geralt’s thighs. Geralt loves when they come back, it’s the only place he feels safe enough to let Jaskier do this.

When Jaskier licks along his hole, a shiver goes through him.

Jaskier lavishes the soft sounds of Geralt gasping. Swirling his tongue around tender flesh. He blindly reaches for the oil he left to the side and coats his fingers, before pressing a finger alongside his tongue.

Geralt is splayed on the marble, and when Jaskier finally comes back up for air. His fingers still curling, teasing him. His eyes glow a little. “So perfect for me like this, Geralt.” He moans

He reaches up kissing the Witcher’s neck sucking on the flesh. Geralt’s hand winding into his hair as he adds another finger into the Witcher. “Please,” Geralt begs softly

“What Geralt?” He smirks

His fingers stop in their teasing. And Geralt tries to move but Jaskier has a hand pinning him still. “What Geralt?” he smiles, “What do you want darling?”

“You,” Geralt gasps.

Jaskier presses a kiss to Geralt’s jaw and removes his fingers from Geralt only to oil up his cock and pull Geralt’s legs up to hook onto his shoulders.

Geralt squeezes his eyes shut, when Jaskier pushes in. Jaskier is deliberate in every movement. When he thrusts into the Witcher he hits that sweet spot inside him that has Geralt crumbling. The room echoes with skin smacking against skin and little gasps that escape from the Witcher.

Geralt feels that tightness inside that starts when he’s about to come, Jaskier stops, pulling out. A cruel smile on his face. He moves and goes deeper into the water. Geralt is like a loyal dog he follows without question and gets in the water himself, he leans against the edge his hands now grasping the edge of the spring.

“Mmm, my good boy!” Jaskier says standing up kissing Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt can’t help the smile that comes onto his face, “Fuck me,” he whispers under his breath.

Jaskier easily slots back inside and pounds into him his hands winding into Geralt’s hair tugging lightly. “Jas!” he moans

“Such a good boy moaning for me!” Jaskier coos

Geralt pushes back into the thrusts, pushing the others cock deeper inside him. His fingers grip the side even more. “Say it again!” gasping

“What my darling?”

“Tell me I’m good,” Geralt whimpers

Jaskier thrusts still, Geralt looks over his shoulder to see that Jaskier’s face has softened he worries he has ruined the moment. He cups Geralt’s cheek his thumb brushing his jaw. Before he thrusts again. “You are so fucking good Geralt.”

“Mmmm!”

“So good for me!” Jaskier exclaims

Jaskier begins chanting it as he slams into Geralt, his head now pressed to Geralt’s shoulder as he murmurs his confessions into the Witchers scarred skin.

Geralt comes first his body shaking all over, his muscles clenching around Jaskier which has him coming almost straight away.

Jaskier sits and pulls Geralt to sit so his legs are over his lap. His fingers brush against strong muscled thighs. Before his arms wind around the Witchers stomach. His face pressed against Geralt’s neck. Pressing kisses into his skin he hears Jaskier whisper, “Always good, always perfect for me,”

A breathy almost sob like sound comes from Geralt, they stay cocooned in each other’s embrace until Jaskier’s stomach rumbles.

************

Jaskier watches as Lambert comes into the keep with Hanna and another Witcher clearly from the school of Cat. Józef only a few steps to the side, he can’t Roksana and he is about to pull himself from Geralt’s arms so he can go ask where she is. He may not like the man but that won’t stop him being concerned. _“Don’t Jaskier, he lost Roksana, someone saw the wolf medallion and because of the Blaviken situation it didn’t end well best leave him alone for a few days.”_ Hanna tells him

He nods at her and leaves Geralt’s arms, he doesn’t want to rub it in the mans face. Despite what he thinks of him. _“Józef lost Roksana, someone thought he was involved in the Blaviken situation. Best to give him space.”_ He tells Geralt

A sour look comes on Geralt’s face, and he can feel it through their bond, the guilt that is washing through his Witcher. Can feel the panic rising in him. _“Hey Geralt, it isn’t your fault.”_

_“How isn’t it? It’s my fault that she is dead. I bet he wishes I were dead.”_

_“He may, but I don’t. It’s not your fault humans did that and if I have to keep telling you that for the next few centuries than so be it.”_

He pulls Geralt away from the yard and to the stables away from prying eyes and wraps his arms around him. They don’t need to talk, just feel the other. He can feel Geralt’s shaky breath against his skin, he doesn’t deserve this, he deserves so much better. “Thank you Jas,”

***********

Jaskier feels paranoid, he can feel eyes on him. But whenever he looks around he can’t see anyone looking at him. And so many of the Witchers had managed to come back this year, the keep isn’t as quiet as it has been in most recent years. Many have gotten over the shock of the sacking and feel comfortable being back in its walls and after the Blaviken situation it would not do well for the others to stay on the continent.

But Geralt appreciates being able to hide in the crowd, so Jaskier ignores the feeling. He’s sure he is just over thinking everything. Being on high alert… for Geralt’s sake.

He is spending his day with Klara and Hanna; they were finishing the sorting of the library that Jaskier and Vesemir started earlier… well Hanna didn’t want to but she was pulled along by the other two. “Tell me why I’m doing this?” Hanna asks groaning loudly, it wasn’t often you found her in the library you would often find her in the training yard over this portion of the keep.

“Because this library is in tatters my darling Hanna, when me and Geralt were in Oxenfurt in the summer I browsed their library.” He fans himself dramatically pretending to swoon, “I’ve never seen such a beautiful library.”

“Oh really? So, you didn’t drag me here to get info on Aiden?” Hanna smirks

Klara smirks at Jaskier, “Well if you want to share we won’t stop you, right buttercup?”

“Right!” Jaskier said grinning

“We found Aiden once he lost his familiar five or ten years ago… he wasn’t doing so well. We travelled with him over time it wasn’t just us and Aiden it was just us three.” Hanna said shrugging

Jaskier huffed, “You are worse than Geralt with story telling.”

It goes quiet for a minute. Jaskier can’t help of think of Józef how despondent he was, he shuddered thinking of that being Geralt. The way the girls stare at him he can tell they want to ask him questions. “He is doing ok… he has nightmares, but he is doing ok.” He murmurs under his breath

Hanna comes over placing a hand on his shoulder, “How are you doing though?” She asks

“I’m worried for Geralt… what do I do when someone says something next season?” He whispers, “Look at how the other Witchers were treated just for being in the same school! When they realise if they try to hurt him… I”

He trails off wiping aggressively at the tears threatening to fall from his eyes with his sleeve, “Just a suggestion, but maybe you guys should wait go down summertime.” Klara suggests

“Yeah give the continent time to forget a little.” Hanna finishes

Jaskier can’t help the wet chuckle that leaves his lips, “You think Geralt will do that?”

The others laugh a little too, “I can injure you if you like? Then he will stay back.” Hanna says grinning, she looks far too eager.

“Why are we injuring my familiar?” Geralt’s gruff voice fills the room.

Jaskier smokes out and curls around Geralt before materialising behind Geralt. “Protect me, my darling.” Jaskier cries out

He picks up Jaskier flinging him over his shoulder, walking out of the room Jaskier still over his shoulder. “Wait if Jaskier is gone can we stop tidying?” He can hear Hanna ask Klara.

“We will finish up tomorrow.” Klara tells her

Geralt continues carrying Jaskier away into the keep, “Geralt are you going to put me down?”

“No,”

“Where are we going then?” Jaskier asks

Geralt accidentally bumps into Jozef, the Witcher looks at them with such distaste that Jaskier looks away. “Sorry Jo!” Geralt says softly

The other Witcher grunts and walks off his eyes not leaving them. _“How do I make it right?”_ Geralt asks

_“Give him space? That’s all you can do.”_ Jaskier offered

He carries Jaskier up to the watch tower and settles him back on the ground. And climbs onto the windowsill, _“Are you coming?”_

Jaskier grins as Geralt climbs out of the window, Jaskier following soon after. They pull themselves up the stone wall climbing up onto the roof of the tower. They sit so Jaskier curls up into Geralt’s side. One arm permanently keeping hold of Jaskier… just in case. “I love coming up here!”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier knows that hum, knows the tension in Geralt’s brows. “It’s ok to want to get away for a bit you know?” Jaskier tells him

“I shouldn’t be upset at having my brothers and sisters back!” Geralt mumbles

“Well I am some of them are hogging the springs.” Jaskier huffs

Geralt’s deep chuckle rumbles against Jaskier’s side. “Why was Hanna going to injure you?”

There was no point trying to hide what Jaskier was thinking, he couldn’t lie to Geralt. And he didn’t want him to go back down so soon after everything. “I was thinking we could stay here a little longer into the season.” Jaskier whispered

He could feel Geralt tense and pull away from Jaskier. “Why would we do that?”

“Because you went through a lot Geralt, you deserve some down time.”

“What’s the real reason?” Geralt growled, “You think it’s my fault?”

“Of course not! But the continent is cruel, you’ve seen how it treats Witchers normally how do you think they are going to be now!” Jaskier tells him

“It’s my duty to go and fight monsters.”

“I’m not trying to take that away from you, maybe you can go down with Vesemir in one of the neighbouring villages. You know ease back into it.” Jaskier suggested

“Have you talked to everyone about this?” Geralt shouted

“No I haven’t!” Jaskier shouted, “I only talked about it to the girls, I just meant that Vesemir wouldn’t mind.”

“Well they will tell Eskel, Lambert and that damn cat!”

“We don’t have to tell our Witchers everything you know.”

And that was clearly the wrong thing to say, a hurt look flashed across Geralt’s face and he moved away from Jaskier to the edge of the roof. “Geralt, please be careful up here.” Jaskier whispered 

“What have you kept from me?” Geralt asked, staying right at the edge of the roof.

“What and you haven’t kept things from me?” Jaskier asked angrily

“You’ve looked into my mind, you can see everything.” Geralt hissed

“I wont look in your memories without your consent… you know that.” Jaskier mumbled

“And how do I know that?” He looked up at Jaskier anger all over his face

“You would know if I had.” 

“So you claim.” Jaskier moved back like he had been slapped, “Do you think I would lie to you Geralt?”

“It’s clear you haven’t told me everything!”

Jaskier couldn’t contain himself turning to smoke he rose up into the air and pulled Geralt back onto the main area of the roof. _“YOU WANT TO SEE EVERYTHING FINE!”_ His mind roared at Geralt

A smoky hand formed and pushed itself to Geralt’s forehead. _“Don’t hate me when you come back!”_

Jaskier flew off and the ringing in Geralt’s ears passed, his heartbeat went calm and he realised what a fool he had been. “Jask… wait…” he went to move when a blinding pain filled his mind.

Clutching his head, he squeezed his eyes shut trying to shut out Jaskier’s memories. But the familiars magic was greater than his own and he succumbed.

***********

Jaskier flew off down into the a quiet corner of the keep. He was seething, how could Geralt be so smart and so thick at the same time. His own form struggled to stay solid as he tried to calm himself down.

Perhaps his reaction was over the top, but Geralt needed to see. Realise that he want the only one that had made mistakes, that jaskier knew the price of such mistakes. Had paid for it dearly too.

He slumped onto the windowsill, he scrubbed furiously at the tears threatening to spill. “Fuck!” He shouted

He could feel the magic under his skin vibrating. He turned into black smoke, and demolished everything in sight. Upturning old tables, breaking chairs, he bounced into the walls creating sizeable dents, making the walls shake. When he rematerialised his whole body was heaving but the anger was seeping out of him. A loud noise startles him, he turns around to see a chair leg swing at his head. He falls backwards, feeling his skull slam into the ground as everything goes dark.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you all have a safe week.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this chapter. And that everyone is happy and healthy right now and keeping safe.

* * *

Jaskier couldn’t contain himself turning to smoke he rose up into the air and pulled Geralt back onto the main area of the roof. _“YOU WANT TO SEE EVERYTHING FINE!”_ His mind roared at Geralt

A smoky hand formed and pushed itself to Geralt’s forehead. _“Don’t hate me when you come back!”_

Jaskier flew off and the ringing in Geralt’s ears passed, his heartbeat went calm and he realised what a fool he had been. “Jask… wait…” he went to move when a blinding pain filled his mind.

Clutching his head, he squeezed his eyes shut trying to shut out Jaskier’s memories. But the familiars magic was greater than his own and he succumbed quickly.

Geralt was pulled viciously into his own mind, not in the way that Jaskier had guided him when he saw memories of his own childhood no this was different entirely. And while he wouldn’t admit it later this was much scarier without Jaskier.

He found himself staring at well himself, clearly a younger him he can see it in his younger self’s eyes. They were both arguing in a village just outside Touissant, Geralt is almost a hundred percent sure this was before they were together the scar that ran down his eyebrow was missing. He remembered this argument; he had been injured by the locals who were angry he hadn’t been able to save the children from the forktail, he had been angry that he hadn’t been able to save them too. He had been regrettably too late. But Jaskier had wanted to see vengeance in particular to the first man who had stabbed him in the side, Jaskier’s anger grew only tenfold when he learnt that Geralt believed he deserved the pain for not being able to save them.

It followed Geralt’s memory of the event, almost exactly. They shouted at each other, his voice going hoarse. Geralt winning the argument and them going to sleep, Jaskier curled up in cat form tucked into his side.

But that’s when things started to differ. In the middle of the night Jaskier waking up in human form and slowly creeping out of the bedroll, not before brushing some of Geralt’s hair back away from his face.

Geralt is pulled along with Jaskier like he is tethered by invisible string, it’s only after following for ten minutes that he realises Jaskier is going back towards the village that they had just run from. The familiar strides with purpose until he gets closer, he shifts into cat form and makes his way to the inn where he sits and waits. His silver eyes focused only on the door.

Geralt can’t help but feel uneasy, watching Jaskier. He may not be able to interact with memory Jaskier, but he can feel his anger. It rolls off the familiar in waves. He’s not sure how long Jaskier waits but eventually the first man who stabbed Geralt comes out of the door, he’s boasting about having stabbed a Witcher. Jaskier follows silently behind them, waiting for the others to finally walk off, leaving the man to stumble into his home.

At this point Geralt can guess what is going to happen, but he desperately hopes that he will be proven wrong. That Jaskier will scare him… maybe injure him a bit but otherwise leave the man alive.

He is proven dramatically wrong.

Jaskier goes into the house floating through the house, letting doors slam. Making the floorboards creak as he goes past, dragging furniture so it scrapes along the floor. He draws everything out until the man is terrified and running out of his house. Jaskier follows and purposefully pulls branches forward, so they cut the man’s skin. He makes him fall over repeatedly. And like a cat playing with it’s prey, he can tell that Jaskier is bored of playing now. He gains solid form and twists his hand into a fist, the man’s leg suddenly bends at an unnatural angle, the snap echoes in the quiet empty of the forest. The man screams as he falls to the ground, his eyes find Jaskier. “How does it feel?” Jaskier asks “To be chased out of town?”

“Please…” The man begs his words slurred

“You think I should give you mercy?” Jaskier asks enraged, “You didn’t offer mercy to the Witcher whom you stabbed. And for what?”

The man tries to drag himself further away from Jaskier, who tuts as he twists his hand again, the man is pulled back towards the familiar. “I’m not finished yet!” He says impatiently, “He was helping you! Ridding you of a monster plaguing your streets and you hurt him.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know… m’ sorry.” The man cried

Jaskier walked forwards pushes his boot into the man’s broken leg, his screams fill the forest. “You did know, you humans are all the same.” He murmured, “You’re the true monsters.”

“I’ll never do it again, I promise.” The man cries

Jaskier laughs, its cold and unlike anything he has ever heard from his lover. It makes Geralt shiver. He hopes never to hear it in real life. “No, you won’t.”

He crouches down in front of the man, his beautiful silver eyes gone and replaced by a sea of black. The man tries to shuffle away again, “Please let me go?” He whispers

“I will.” Jaskier relents and stands up and Geralt can’t help breathing a sigh of relief even if he is confused he was certain that Jaskier was going to kill the man. “You better go, before I change my mind.”

The man groans in protest as he climbs to his feet, dragging his broken leg behind him. He gets quite a bit away before he looks behind him, Jaskier’s gone. The human turns back, Jaskier reappears in a puff of black smoke, making a terrible hideous shape in the smoke of well Geralt’s not sure what it’s supposed to be, but it looks like it’s screaming at the man. He grabs the man by the head lifting him off the ground and snap, the crack of his neck echoes in Geralt’s ears as the man slumps to the ground.

Jaskier returns to solid form and dusts himself off and walks off back to their camp, he moves his bedroll closer to Geralt and falls asleep.

He is violently pulled out of that memory and flung into the next one.

*************

Jaskier’s head is pounding, his vision all blurry. How much wine did he have? He sits up and looks around and doesn’t recognise where he is. He can tell he is in Kaer Morhen still; the air is thinner up the mountains.

He goes to get up when a burning sensations flares up around his ankles, he looks down to see iron chains around his ankles. What the fuck is going on? 

A small crack in the wall opens and a smoke bomb is thrown into the room, he almost wants to laugh that is until he can smell the mistletoe. His throat closes up, a hacking cough builds up in his lungs as his vision goes blurry again.

*********

Geralt watches as Jaskier walks through a town, something seems off with the whole picture. For starters it’s weird to see the bard without his lute. He’s wearing the same clothes that he had been wearing when he first bonded to Geralt, which was only odd as they had been destroyed when they first left Kaer Morhen.

And Jaskier himself, seems dimmer like he is half of himself. He isn’t bouncing with life and vigour like Geralt is accustomed to. It takes him far too long to realise that this is Jaskier before he was bonded to Geralt. 

What really confirms it for him is seeing how the humans in the village where dressed. He doesn’t recognise where Jaskier is, but even the smallest hamlets up to the biggest of citadels rise and fall in a blink of an eye. Geralt really shouldn’t be surprised.

Jaskier watches people perform their music a ghost of a smile on his face as he taps out a beat on the table, he orders an ale but doesn’t touch it. Of course, he can’t… he remembers how excited Jaskier had been to try food and drink when he bonded to Geralt. Jaskier would still often reach across and help himself to Geralt’s food.

He looks so out of place and it gets the attention of the locals. They start cursing him calling him demon. Chasing him out of the inn, Jaskier runs and while he can’t cry after all he isn’t truly in their world he looks like he is about to. Geralt pities how limited Jaskier was. Hates seeing him this way. He sees the villagers, who seem more aware of what Jaskier is… more so than humans do nowadays. They attack him with iron and mistletoe. When Jaskier yelps in pain, Geralt wishes he could get involved. Is this why Jaskier showed him this memory? To explain why he did what he did in the first memory?

One of the villagers spears Jaskier in the side with an iron pitchfork, Geralt knows the scar it left on his bard, has let his lips graze over it plenty of times, when they had been intimate.

Jaskier’s eyes go black, he roars loudly, it almost sounds inhuman. He loses corporeal form and flies high up into the air. The villagers look up in shock watching as Jaskier flies ever higher. Before he spins around and coming at such a speed he slams back down into the villagers, black smoke envelopes them and Jaskier seems to be everywhere at once. Before he staggers out into human form covered in blood… they are all dead.

He returns to the other world and flies to Klara and flings himself into her arm sobbing loudly in her arms as she whispers soothing words into his ear.

************

The memories start to come at him incoherently, like they are distorted, muffled something about them isn’t right. Like Jaskier can’t remember them right.

At first he just gets flashes, Jaskier looks younger and his eyes aren’t silver they are blue, and he is dressed rather dull in browns and creams. He is stealing bread.

It then goes to him giving that bread to a young woman who looks like him.

Geralt is then forced out of that memory into another and he can barely hear what is being said but he can make out that the other person in the memory calls Jaskier, Julian.

They begin fighting and Jaskier or Julian is losing badly. The man is trying to reach for Jaskier’s trousers laces, but he manages to keep the man out of reach. He pushes the man who falls back hitting his head hard against a tree root on the ground, Geralt recognised the glazed look in the bastards eyes… he’s dead. Jaskier moves away and throws up behind the tree. Everything spins in a blur around the Witcher. When it settles again Jaskier with a group of people.

He is in Redania, the castle Geralt recognises at least that hasn’t changed much. That same girl that Jaskier gave the bread to from earlier is crying her hands covering her breasts, what had once been her blouse in tatters hanging off her. Jaskier is beating someone up. “Fucker!” and “Don’t ever touch her again.” In a voice so angry it doesn’t even sound like Jaskier, the girl’s shrill screams drown out his own shouts “Julek!” and “Stop!”

Geralt wants to shout with her, to beg Jaskier to stop. A guard comes as Jaskier delivers the killing blow. He is pulled away from the crying girl.

It then flips to Jaskier in court turns out the man he killed while a vile horrible man was also very high up in the Redanian power system. Jaskier is given two options to be executed or to go to the temple of Morrigan.

Jaskier chooses the temple of Morrigan.

Everything goes dark and Geralt ends up alone, he tries to move but he can’t everything around him feels like its closing in. Drums start to beat loudly in his ears, he can hear people chanting in a language he doesn’t know. “Please no…” Jaskier whimpers

“Jaskier?” Geralt calls out, he turns trying to find him.

“I don’t want this.” Jaskier cries

“Everything will be ok, Julian.” A woman’s voice fills the empty. “You will join the other world and serve the Witchers who save our towns. It’s a higher calling.”

Geralt doesn’t trust her voice, even without seeing her face. He can just about make a shape out in the distance, a light shape. He runs towards it, getting closer he can see its Jaskier dressed all in white and markings painted all over his skin. Tears are falling freely down his face.

The woman begins chanting again, while Jaskier struggles against the restraints every time he moves the image gets fuzzy. The woman walks behind him raising her arms in the air, when Geralt sees he unsheathe a glittering dagger. “Jaskier no!” He shouts

The daggers pulls across his skin, Jaskier’s screams dying on his lips. He crumbles to the floor blood leaving his body. Geralt closes his eyes, he doesn’t want to see anymore.

When he opens them again he is on the roof of the keep alone. “Jaskier?” He calls out

But nothing happens, he is alone up here. He climbs down, he needs to find his bard.

****************

For the next few hours, every time Jaskier gains consciousness another one of those mistletoe bombs comes into the room. Each time his head feels fuzzier and he feels weaker.

After the first few bombs, he begins coughing up blood, his lungs burning and he’s certain if he were human he would of lost his vocal abilities at this point. When he gets out, he will find out who is doing this and get his revenge.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapters a little shorter but it felt better to end it here. thank you for reading xx

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. X


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